#me: what if I get attached and give them a story anyway

[lydiaalin]

save me horror cowboy game ocs save me

#drawing instead of working on my thesis like that's going to help my stress and anxiety el oh el #hunt be like: you can lose any of your hunters at the drop of the hat (literally) #me: what if I get attached and give them a story anyway #kinda don't want to put it in the main tag but also want to organise on my own blog so. yolo #hunt showdown #amarante montandon #devany kesserly #the tracker #lydiaalin #this makes it looks like they're in the same squad but they don't even know each other

[hyunsvngs]

kinktober !

kink: breeding

pairing: lee minho x fem!reader

wc: 2k

breeding kink: the intense arousal at the thought of being impregnated or impregnating someone.

You'd always loved kissing. Sitting on someone's lap as they hold you close, your lips connected to theirs. Feeling the motions grow in intensity as you both got more and more turned on - it had always been your favourite thing to do.

But kissing Minho? It was a whole different story.

The way his scent overwhelmed you every time, the way his taste flooded your senses. He would hold you so tightly, as though he couldn't possibly get you close enough. His hands roaming your skin, traversing the planes of your back, your waist, your hips, your ass. It was everything you needed, and you could never get enough.

It was inevitable as soon as it started. Your hips started to pick up a pace against his clothed erection, a desperate, grinding movement that made Minho smile against your lips. He didn’t stop you, only aiding the movement with his hands on your ass while he dominated your mouth with his tongue.

You couldn't hold back your whimpers, and Minho's smirk only grew. He pulled away from the kiss and you didn't even give him a second. "Minho, please-" 

"We don't have any condoms, baby. We're out."

You almost felt the ground collapse beneath you. "No! Say you're joking right now!" 

He wouldn't fuck you without protection, you knew it. He was too cautious. But that didn't stop you from trying. 

"Let's fuck anyways. I need it, Minho, I need you.”

Minho mirrored your pout back to you as he stroked your cheek gently with the back of his knuckles. "But what if I fuck a baby into you?"

What happened next was completely involuntary. His filthy words, coupled with his gentle tone, and his big dark eyes looking into yours. You moaned aloud, your hips grinding down hard, rubbing your pussy across his bulge once more. 

Minho's pout gave way to a shit-eating grin. "Oh, fuck. You want me to fuck a baby into you. Don't you? You want me to breed you like a little slut?"

"You can't talk like this if you aren't gonna fuck me!" you whined. 

He raised an eyebrow at you. "Who said I'm not gonna fuck you?" 

You stared at him, mouth slightly open. "You are? Are you gonna cum in me too?"

Minho gave a half-shrug. "If you're good."

"I'll be good!" you insisted. "M-Min, I'll be so good for you."

He smiled at your desperation. "Go ahead, then. Show me what a good girl you can be."

You didn't waste a single second. You tugged his t-shirt down impatiently, revealing his collarbones to your eyes. You attached your lips to his smooth, milky skin, licking and sucking all along his collarbone, until you found that spot that always drew the most delicious breathy moans from him.

“Oh, baby.” There it was. You had him. “You want me to fuck you raw that bad?”

You felt him get harder beneath you, his hips rolling to meet your core as you ground down onto him. Whining into his skin, you drooled against him with every movement, hands moving to clutch onto his shoulders. 

“Please,” You gasped, nipping at his collarbone. Minho grunted, nodding, and then he was pushing his joggers down to let his erection spring out. It rested heavy and thick against his t-shirt, a drop of precum staining the fabric with how aroused he was. “Please, please, Minho, I can’t, it hurts, I need you so bad, it’s-”

“God, be quiet,” Minho huffed, yanking your bottoms and underwear down altogether. He threw them to the side, and you yelped when he pushed you down onto the bed, back hitting the mattress. You were so wet you could feel it, folds slick and clit swollen with need. He shifted on his knees, pushing your legs apart and settling between them. 

Minho leaned in and captured your lips in a rough kiss, his hands beginning to roam over your body. You laid there, pliant while he rucked your shirt up and cupped your tits in his hands before moving lower. His lips moved to your neck, and you could feel his hot breath on your skin. His fingers teased your entrance, and you moaned, thighs clenching at the bare minimum of a sensation. 

“Ah. I was gonna prep you, but I don’t think you need it, do you?” He smirked, leaning back on his haunches. He grabbed his cock in a tight ring around the base, running his cockhead through your folds. The movement made you keen, legs thrashing and hips bucking into the feeling. Minho’s eyes were half lidded when he felt just how wet you were, hand moving to pull his shirt up just enough to expose his tummy. You pouted.

“Off,” You pointed at his t-shirt, and he grinned, tilting his head in mock confusion. “Take it off, Minho.”

“Okay, okay. Demanding tonight, aren’t you?” He quipped, and then he was pulling the offending fabric off. His tummy was toned, broad biceps and shoulders fully revealed to you. Before you could even take the sight in and enjoy the view of your boyfriend fully naked, he was positioning himself at your core again, tip just barely breaching your hole. You were so wet he could’ve bottomed out with one, slick movement, but he kept himself at your entrance with a cocky grin. “Do you want it? Do you want it raw like this, do you want to feel every part of me? Tell me.”

“Yes, Minho,” You wailed, trying to buck your hips enough for him to slip inside. He raised an eyebrow, shaking his head, pushing your hips down with one, firm hand. You sobbed out, eyes finally tearing up at the prospect of having your boyfriend like this. Raw, unfiltered, nothing separating the pair of you. “Please, please. Please, sir. I need it, I need it, need you to fill me up and cum inside me, and breed me- oh god, sir, breed me, please, gimme your cum, please-”

Minho groaned at your words, desperate and babbling, and then he was pushing inside. His cock always stretched you out just right, thick enough for you to feel the breach and long enough that he felt like he was in your tummy. He bottomed out with one, easy thrust, his eyes dark and lips parted as he gauged your reaction. You nodded, desperate breaths tumbling out of your lips.

“Don’t need to wait, just- just gimme, please-”

“Dirty,” Minho mumbled, and then he was positioning his forearms either side of your head and thrusting into you at a blistering pace. The sudden movement made you keen, tears finally slipping out of your eyes and pussy clenching around his length. You grabbed his arms for purchase, feeling yourself moving up and down the bed with the forcefulness of his thrusts. “Fuckin’ dirty. My dirty jagi, dirty little kitty wanting me like this. You need me to fill you up, don’t you? Look at you crying. Fucking pathetic, yeah?”

“Need it,” You managed to speak, whining and whimpering with every thrust. It felt so much better like this. You felt like you could feel every ridge, every vein on his cock and the way his pubic hair was rutting into your clit. It was too much, too sensitive, too big, but you couldn’t get enough of it. 

"Please! Minho I need your cum, I need it, so bad, please!" You were delirious at this stage - his cum was all you could think of. Thick and white, flooding your insides.

"No, no, baby," he urged you gently, thrusting his dick deep inside of you once more. "Wait, okay? The longer we go, the more cum I'll have for you." 

"Want you to fill me up, though," you protested.  

"And I will. That's a promise. Be patient." 

Minho cupped your cheek with his hand, and you took his thumb into your mouth, sucking on it lightly. 

"There you go, baby, that's it," he praised you. “Just feel. Feel my cock inside you, can you feel how hard I am? Does it feel better raw?”

You whined around his thumb, nodding. Your words were slurred around the digit when you spoke. “F-feels so much better, Min.”

The muffled words you spoke made Minho groan incoherently, and then he was fucking into you like a rabbit. His hips slapped against your thighs, your pussy making wet slicking sounds that would’ve made you embarrassed - but the way Minho stared down at your hole taking his cock, raw and unfiltered, made you proud of how wet he’d made you.

“I’ll have to fuck you raw everyday then, baby,” Minho grunted, his cockhead kissing your cervix with every rough thrust. “I’ll have to do it every fucking night, make sure my - oh, baby, this pussy - I’ll have to make sure my cum takes, baby, make sure it makes you all swollen with me.”

"Breed me, Minho, that's all I'm good for," you whimpered. 

He gave you a cocky grin. "You know your place, baby, I'm so proud of you."

"Are you close?" you asked desperately. "Are you gonna give me your cum soon?"

"Oh, baby, I could cum any second. I'm just holding off cause I don't want this to end."

"No, please, Min-"

"Shh," he cut you off. "I'm enjoying my jagi’s sweet, tight pussy. Never get to feel it raw." He grunted as he delivered a particularly hard thrust. "So warm in here. So wet and tight. Mmm."

"You like my pussy raw?" you asked.

"I love it," he confirmed. "Now be a good little whore, and let me savour it."

You thought you might die if he didn't give you his cum soon. You'd always loved his cum, you'd be stupid not to. Hot, white, salty. You loved it when he came on your tongue, down your throat, on your cheeks, your tits, your ass, anywhere. But deep inside your pussy? Fuck, you needed it.

"Are you ready for it, baby?" Minho asked, his voice strained. "Are you ready for my cum? Can't hold back much longer." 

His hair was sticking to his forehead with sweat, and his eyes almost looked wild. It was animalistic - he needed to cum in you, just as badly as you needed it.

You nodded impatiently, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I'm ready - deep inside me, please."

"Of course I'll cum deep, baby. I want this to take, wanna cum right against your cervix."

"Fuck," you whined.

"Legs up," he instructed, guiding your legs onto his shoulders, as high as they could go.

You swore you'd never been fucked this deep before. His dick was filling you completely, reaching places it never had before. It hurt, when the tip of his cock prodded against the ring of your cervix, but it was a pain that you craved. 

"Oh, fuck - fuck, here it comes," Minho groaned. "Look at me, baby, look into my eyes." His voice was frantic, and you obeyed within less than a second. 

He thrusted hard, hammering into your cervix one last time. You felt the pain ripple through your abdomen, and it was the last push you needed. 

"I'm cumming!" you squealed, not breaking eye contact for even a second, not even when your eyes continued to leak tears, vision blurry. Minho's pupils were blown out, barely showing his dark brown irises.

"Take it, baby," he grunted. "Take my cum." 

"Thank you, Min, thank you for filling me up," you babbled. "Thank you so much."

He slowly pulled out, before flashing the dreamiest smile you'd ever seen. "No, thank you." He fell onto the bed beside you, before pulling you in close and wiping your tear-stained cheeks. "Was that good? It didn't hurt too much?"

You shook your head, nuzzling into him. "Hurt a little. Was good though." 

"Good," he said, kissing the top of your head.

The two of you lay in silence as you caught your breath together. All you could hear was the racing of his heartbeat. 

"Min?" you asked.

"Yeah, baby?" 

"You are gonna buy me some Plan B, right?""Obviously," he snorted. "Way to kill the mood, though. Dork."

#hyunsvngbinitober ! #lee minho x reader #lee minho smut #lee know fanfiction #lee know fanfic #lee know smut #lee know fic #skz smut #stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #skz fanfic #skz fic #skz scenarios #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfiction #lee know x reader #lee minho fanfiction #lee minho fic

[deadsetobsessions]

Listen, I know it’s not my usual thing, but I just re-read Dark Matter by mysterycyclone (iconic, so good, incredible, I’ve reread this at least ten times) and this newer work, Help Me, I Don’t Feel Like Myself Anymore by Astra_Nova_Kat (it’s off to a really good and fleshed out, very long start- it’s like 20k for the first chapter omg).

I just. Love?? Them??? They’re both, urg, so good. The writing style, the way the story moves, the natural progression of plot and their usage of tropes are so well done that rarely does it feel awkward. Amazing. Anyways, they inspired me to put my two cents into the proverbial offering hat and while this might not ever be a realized fanfic, here it is? This will have multiple parts.

Uh, I’m basing Peter’s personality off of the really tired millennial energy Tobey Maguire gives, the awkward but well meaning disaster vibes of Andrew Garfield, and the sassy acrobatic chaos gremlin of Tom Holland. All kind of mushed together with the hyper competence and maturity of both the PS4 spidey and pretty much most spider people. He’s 22, or something but that doesn’t really matter?? Background doesn’t really matter because I’m basically making my own spider-verse. Spider… past? Eh. New Peter!

Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.1

[Pt.2]

——

Spider-Man swung through the skyscrapers of his city, enjoying the winds and sounds of New York as he kept a sharp eye out for crime.

He remembered doing this without any of the fancy tech his suit had now, when he was dressed in less protective clothing. God, 100% cotton while crime fighting? The spandex was better but god ugly.

His spider-sense blared. Spider-man quickly shot a web to the top of the building, going towards the danger instead of away from it.

He goes in feet first, years of knocking common thugs to legitimate gods to the ground making short work of the people on the roof top. He flips out of the way, dodging a blast of crackling green energy.

“Heyyyy, common robbers! What’s up with shiny lasers, huh? Breaking and entering not doing enough for ya?”

Spider-Man dodges a couple more shots, flipping again to knee a guy in the face, gently. The man goes down in one shot.

“Stay still, you motherfucker!”

“Does that actually work for you guys?? Like I’m down to get killed but, man, I’m not gonna stay still to get downed by some two bit thugs?” Spider-Man kept his words light and mocking, webbing up a laser gun and yanking it out of the woman’s hands. He punches her in the face and knocks her out, using the laser gun like a mildly bulky baton.

“Eat shit, Spider-bitch!”

“Ouch! Oh no, my feelings! You’ve hurt them!” Spider-Man shoots a web at the lady who’d shouted and yanked, before smacking her straight down to the concrete of the rooftop. His hearing picked up two people coming up the stairway and Spider-Man tossed two web bombs, the metal mechanism attached itself to the wall, waiting for their unknowing victims.

Spider-Man ducked and weaved, downing goons as they piled on him while shooting bullets, lasers, and just charging at him with a bat or a crowbar. After eight years of pretty much this exact thing, Spider-Man had gotten the science of breaking up goon dog piles without hurting them too much to an exact measurement. He quipped at them until they got annoyed, which made them sloppy. Spider-Man sighed as another guy came at him with a crow bar and a gun that he was pretty sure was still stuck on safety. He crouched, kicking out their legs and dodging a swipe of a bat where his ribs would have been and webbed the guy to the floor. Yeah, he’ll wrap this up and end patrol. Maybe he still had Mac n’ Cheese at home, or he could stop by Angelo’s for a sub?

Huh. His options for dinner was limited.

“Take this!”

Even without the forewarning of his spidey-sense, Spider-Man would have ducked out of the way regardless.

“Shouting your sneak attacks isn’t actually all that sneaky, you know!” Spider-Man kept his voice cheery and mocking.

“Get him!”

God, why were there so many people trying to break into an insurance company? This definitely doesn’t smell like a regular B&E. With the shit he’s seen in New York, if it smells like a plot, acts like a plot, then it’s probably a villain with a tragic backstory with big, annoying plans.

Great.

Oh, speak of the devil!

“Spider-Man.” His senses blared.

He couldn’t move out of the way fast enough, not without risking the life of the goon he was currently fighting, so Spider-Man took the blast the punched the breath out of his lungs. The wide eyes of the goon made up for some of the pain.

“Ugh!” Spider-Man slammed into an HVAC, denting the metal. His suit, made special polymer blend from Wakanda that he saved for months to get, absorbed some of the shock. Shit, he hoped it didn’t tear. It would be a bitch and a half to dip into the back up stock he had in his hammer space.

The goons left standing quickly rushed him and held him down to face the new boss.

“You’ve been getting on my nerves, Spider.”

“Yeah,” Spider-Man coughed out, letting the two goons think they could hold him down on his knees as he recovered his breath. “I have that effect on people.”

“But you could be an asset, if you’d join me?”

“Uh, I don’t join or sign things without knowing what I’m joining or signing, my guy. My lawyer said so.”

The villain paused, helmeted head cocking to the side.

“You have a lawyer?”

“Yeah. Kind of? He does pro-bono work for the helpless cases. You know, like, a well meaning, crime fighting vigilante?”

“…Does he do cases against insurance companies?”

“Oh man, you too? Dude, this place sucks,” Spider-Man sighed.

“You’ve had trouble too? Then you must see why I’m doing this!”

This was a bit weird, but if there’s anything that brings people together, it’d be corrupt insurance companies. He’s almost tempted to let them break in, just to be extra petty.

“Nah, my neighbor? Sweet old lady. They’re screwing her out of her entire place. I totally get it, man. Hey, if you need a referral, you can tell my lawyer that Spider sent you. He’s real good.”

“How good?” The goons release him and Spider-Man stood up, stretching his limbs.

“Like, Dare Devil good.”

“You know Matt Murdock??”

“Sure do.”

“He… he’ll take on our cases?”

“Dang, all of you?”

“Yes. We can pool enough money to pay him for one or two.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he’ll take you guys on for free. But it wouldn’t hurt if you all went to meet him, just so he can decide which one of you has a higher chance to win in court?��

“We will. Uh.” The villain paused sheepishly. Well, not a villain, more like an unfortunately angry and poor decision making citizen. “Sorry about… you know, the blast.”

“It’s cool. I mean,” Spider-Man gestured to the rooftop, the bodies of unconscious people kind of laying around where he knocked them down. “You guys might wanna check on them, yeah? I’ll let you go for now, but if you commit a B&E again, I’ll leave you webbed up for GCPD to find.”

“Got it. Sorry.”

Feeling good about himself, and plotting corporate espionage, Spider-Man went to help pry some people from his webs.

And of course, because Parker Luck kicks in only when Spider-Man felt like life was looking up for himself, Spider-Man’s senses blared once more as he knelt down to pull at some webbing.

“Oh, shit!” He heard, right before a cold blast of something slammed right into his head, knocking him out.

And Spider-Man

F

E

L

L.

——

Larry looked at the the empty space where Spider-Man, the guy who took a hit from his boss’ blaster so he wouldn’t get hurt, used to be.

He twisted.

“Boss, what the fuck?!”

“Shit! That was accident!” Boss pulled herself up from the concrete, where she just ate dirt.

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know, Larry! That was the experimental warped mode! Crap!” His boss scrambled with the controls, desperately trying to see if the magic gun her magician friend had handed her years ago had a reverse button. It didn’t.

“Why would you bring a test weapon into the field?!”

“I gave you all of my other ones!” She threw up her hands. “Fuck, I feel so bad.”

Larry paled. “Dude, Dare Devil’s gonna kill us.”

“He doesn’t kill!” His boss hesitated. “I think.”

Larry pointed to the empty space. “Yeah? He might start with us. Spidey was a cool guy and you just disappeared him!”

“I know!”

Larry buried his head into his hands and tried not to hate himself for the entire situation.

——

Spider-man woke up, laid flat on the grimy ground of an alleyway.

“Ugh. Just my luck.” He kept his eyes closed for just a beat longer to allow himself time before having to pull his shit together. Why was his voice high? And a bit squeaky? He pulled himself together.

“Okay.” He whispered to himself, before sitting up and taking stock of the situation.

First thing that hit him was that it stunk to high heavens. Gagging, Spider-Man looked to the right and- yeah, that’ll do it. He stood up on wobbly legs to try to move away from the overflowing dumpster.

That’s when the second, more important and decidedly more troublesome, observation hit him.

He’s short. Shorter. And his suit was hanging off of him.

He could tell he still had his normal by now physiology, with the speeding heartbeat and the feeling of super strength. But he’s shorter. With a mounting sense of equal parts dread and resignation, he pulled at the hidden seam by his nape, relying on his both his enhanced senses and spidey-sense to tell if anyone was nearby or looking at him. He pulled the Spider-Man suit off, blankly folding it neatly as he stared dumbly at his hands. They’re small too. Shit. He stumbled to a nearby mud puddle and stared down, seeing his younger face in the contaminated water. Double shit.

He’s starting to loose his composure. He’d gone through a lot of bizarre things over the last eight years. But getting accidentally Detective Conan’ed by a person he just helped was a new low.

The black under layer of his suit, a slash proof and fire resistant polymer Peter had designed himself in MIT’s lab, was in a similar state.

With one hand, Peter Parker numbly rolled up his sleeves and pant hems. Great. Okay. Now what?

Ah. Shoes. He did not want to walk around in his too-big Spider-Man boots. He looked around. Well, there’s the laces of what looked to be like a pair of dumpster shoes. “Yeah, no.”

Shit. Does he still have access to his hammer space?

Peter reached into his pocket, and tried to reach for a pair of normal sneakers. His shoulder slumped as he produced a pair. Fuck yes. He still has access! And shoes! They’re ones he took off of a power line for a well off kid who didn’t want it anymore. He was going to donate them to F. E. A. S. T. but he’s thanking the stars he procrastinated a bit on swinging by the center. He put them on. They’re a bit big, but it’s better than the giant-in-comparison ones he normally wears. You know, as an adult.

He hesitated with his mask. He should at least figure out where he is. He hoped it was still in the states. His mask blinked, the HUD in his lenses informing him that it was trying to find a connection. “That’s weird.” He paused, grimacing at the sound of his voice. But it is weird, because he had his mask automatically connected to the world wide satellites Tony Stark had sent circling the globe for citizens without internet access as a back up option. So either he was somewhere even the Stark Satellites couldn’t reach or…

Peter swallowed, his mask pinging as it found a connection to piggy back on. He clicked his tongue twice to activate the voice controls.

“Connect to the local maps. Where am I?”

His masked followed the order. [Gotham. New Jersey.]

Peter stared at the words, gut churning.

Good news, he was still in the States. Bad news? He’s shrunk, in a totally different state, and possibly in a different world because he’s not connected to the Stark Satellites he knew operated in New Jersey.

Peter Parker tilted his head back and allowed himself one verbal, panic level six and up, curse word.

“Fuck.”

He took off his mask and leaned against a slightly cleaner part of the wall before hyperventilating.

——

Half an hour later, Peter smacked himself on the cheeks and pulled himself together.

“You’re Spider-Man,” he hissed to himself. “Have a mental breakdown somewhere warm, you dumbass.”

Peter Parker was a champion, world class expert at compartmentalization.

He slipped his mask back on, and pulled up his “So You’re Stuck in an Alternate Universe” list he had made with Ned so many years ago when they were high school kids and going through comic books to make contingencies because Peter was a little idiot vigilante hero.

“I didn’t think I’d actually ever need this kind of thing.” Peter muttered. He slipped his black back up gloves on to connect to his mask’s display in order to type.

“Okay,” he glanced at the side by side screens in his lenses. “Money.”

Five things.

1) The emergency cash he’d stashed on him thankfull matched the pictures of cash he’d found on this world’s internet. Yay!

2) He had $1000 tucked away. Not yay. Not if this might be a long term stay before he got back to his own dimension. Not if he wanted a place to sleep.

3) Luckily, thanks to his earlier search of where the hell he was, Peter figured out that due to the high crime rates- “Dang, that’s worse than New York on New Year’s Eve,” he had marveled- Gotham was dirt cheap and that that meant 1k dollars could actually last him a while and he could afford a room for a month on $250. A whole ass apartment for $550. Peter seriously considered staying in this universe just for the rent prices. So what if there’s rampant crimes? He’d deal with it if the rent was that cheap.

4) Problem? He’s fucking tiny. Who would rent to a person that looked like child? Not anyone upstanding, that’s for sure. He’s more likely to get mugged. Counterpoint: he’s in a city where apparently shady people are all around. Also? He doesn’t have an identity.

5) If the fact that he couldn’t connect to the Stark Satellites didn’t convince him he was either in another universe or an alternate dimension, the visual graphics of the websites he visited would. It was like looking at Windows in the early way before Stark Co. bought them out and improved the design. Nauseating.

Okay, so, money’s not too urgent of an issue. Next on Ned’s list: Places of Interest.

Namely, libraries, homeless shelters, crime hotspots, and the like.

Peter snorted when he came across an opinions article talking about how Park Row became Crime Alley. And then he frowned, because that story was not painting this place to be even remotely nice. Then again, considering the crime rates and the various Rogues this place seemed to have in spades, that wasn’t much of a surprise. Peter marks the place in his new mental map of Gotham as a potential area he could either disappear to or get a new identity at. He then marked the libraries, Gotham City Public Library and its many branches all funded by generous donations from a Bruce Wayne, the Martha Wayne foundations’ shelters and charities, two supermarkets near the library, and a coffee shop he thought looked warm and cozy from the shitty pictures they have uploaded online. He needed coffee, dammit, and he needed it hours ago. Alas, he probably wouldn’t get to go to one until he secured his finances.

Well, it’s not like he doesn’t have practice being poor.

3) Which brings him up to Ned’s next, surprisingly reasonable for a teenager hoped up on a mountain load of sugar, point. Level of Tech.

Peter hid next to the dumpster, melding in with the shadows, as he continued his research.

Tech here was… well, he probably wouldn’t have to worry. The thought of not having a Starkphone, even his older model, was painful considering the new versions of these WaynePhones were really… behind. Peter doesn’t remember the last time he had buttons on his phone or let alone a touch screen that didn’t use facial tracking and biometrics or even have a holographic display mode.

“Ugh. Okay. Not the end of the world, Parker.” Peter muttered.

Now… People of Interest.

This was underlined three times with Ned’s red pens, with extensive subcategories.

Subcategory A? Villains, because “what if they put out a warning for a known villain and you get your butt kicked because you didn’t know about them, Peter? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”

He had replied, half focused on the list and the other on savoring the Millennium Falcon Lego set May had saved up for months to get him for his birthday, “I feel like if I was getting my butt kicked by a villain, I’d probably have better things to worry about than my utter humiliation, Ned.”

“True that,” Ned had snicked and jotted it down anyways.

And… well, Gotham had a lot of villains. The Joker (ew, that’s a crusty man in crustier face paint. This guy could learn so much from the cool mimes busking in Central Park. Like, how to do face paint. Or how not to be a massive murderous jerk. There’s Clayface, Two-Face, a bald guy in “Metropolis” (a name Peter couldn’t help but snort at because a city named city? That’s like na’an bread being bread bread. Or chai tea being tea tea) named Lex Luthor, and Scarecrow. He tabbed all of them and marked them for further perusal at a later date. From experience, he knew villains with a prominent M.O. and themes usually did more damage. Case in point: Rhino, and the million dollars of property damage the guy did everytime he escaped the Raft. Peter was seriously considering petitioning for the Raft to be placed further out just so he could have more warning the next time some assholes decided to free the prisoners and helped them escape.

He narrowed his eyes at the screen, his mask’s lenses following the movement. He’ll have to pick up a gas mask. Apparently bio-weapons are just a regular thing here and he really didn’t want to get dosed with this “fear toxin.” It’d be dangerous for everyone involved. Maybe if he gets his hands on a sample, he could build up tolerance and see how his immune system and metabolic rates affected the normal progression of the toxin. Ah, off topic. He’s gotta focus.

Subcategory B: Local celebrities.

“Why would I need to know local celebrities?” He’d asked.

“If someone came up to you and asked “Who’s Tony Stark?”, wouldn’t you clock that as super weird? You gotta blend in, Peter. Plus, you gotta keep up with the pop culture, dude. It’s important.”

“You just want alternate universe memes,” Peter grinned.

“That too. If you ever go to an alternate universe and come back, you’d better bring me a truckload of memes or I’ll never forgive you.”

Yeah. So. Wayne? Super important. Like Tony Stark levels of important. He found threads about them and the local vigilantes and their charity works. Peter’s brain instantly catalogued the info, all but memorizing the deluge of pictures he found of Bruce Wayne and his kids. Maybe the man had an adoption problem? Conspiracy threads and memes popped up alongside his research. He tabbed one on secret societies, because as Spiderman, he had fought a disturbing amount of secret societies that, on hindsight, had been theorized about on threads he’s read on his free time. Somehow, somewhere, somewhen, a conspiracy theorist could be right. Peter’s not about to dismiss that. He also saved like thirty different memes to send to Ned when he got back. If he got back.

Peter smacked that thought away. He’ll get back to his city or die trying.

Subcategory C, underlined and starred: Other Superheroes and Vigilantes.

Yeah, Peter’s excited about this one too. After Matt stopped being Dare Devil (but did he actually ever stop?) and Wade dipping in and out of NY, Peter’s gotten lonely as Spider-Man. He missed training with them. Of course, the fantastic four were still operating, but he doesn’t actually interact with them or the Avengers at all. Miles hasn’t been cleared (by his mom) to go out as Spiderman with near as many hours as Peter cleared a night. Peter stood behind that because he remembered how horrible it was to work as Spiderman and try to balance school on top of it. Also, he was terrified of Mrs. Morales and would never endanger her son more than he already does. He did wave to Black Widow from a rooftop once, spider to spider, and that was pretty much the coolest moment of his life.

So. Uh. The amount of vigilantes and heroes in this world? Amazing. In Gotham? There’s like, a whole team of them.

Batman, Nightwing (who, Username: Draken Draken had theorized, was the first iteration of Batman’s sidekick Robin), Red Hood, Black Canary, Huntress, Red Robin, Spoiler, the “day vigilante” Signal, the current Robin, and whispers of a “Black Bat.”

And their unfortunate “No Meta” rule with the singular exception of Signal. Peter figured their term of Meta was essentially the same thing as his world’s mutants. He’s not sure which term he liked more. Eh, he’ll worry about that later.

And there’s a Justice League! Which, to Peter, is just a bigger Avengers. There’s aliens on this world too. Superman. Martian Manhunter.

Peter grinned from his place crouched next to the dumpster. Yeah, this is awesome. He quickly memorized everything he could find, cross referencing posts and picking out the nuggets of truth or at least popular truth from the posts he viewed. Like, Red Hood operated in Crime Alley and was a crime boss with morals. Cool.

He’ll go down the spiral later. He mentally thanked Ned who was the best guy in the chair a teenage vigilante could ask for. He should really text his friend when he got back.

For now, he’ll head to the library and see if he could use their computers. He might need a card though… Peter quickly pulled up the search engine and found an Internet cafe. Ah, 24 hour internet cafes, the savior of his college days. There first, and then library, Peter decided. He memorized the instructions and pulled his mask off, tucking it away in the hammer space.

He walked out the alley and turned left, only to double take at his reflection in a shop window that was partially boarded up. Holy shit, he’s a baby. He’s like. 10!

Oh my god.

Peter twitched, tearing himself away from the window before the shop owner decided he was less curious and more potential mugger before promptly remembering that he looked less of a threat than ever. Mixed feelings.

Peter hurried his way to the internet cafe, paying the guy at the front a little extra so he’d ignore the obvious minor without a guardian thing Peter hasn’t gotten used to. Ugh. That was going to be annoying. He only paid for two hours and pulled up as many listings for a room as possible. By the end of it, he came out with $1 worth of fliers printed out and having funneled some billionaire’s offshore accounts into a new bank account he’d made by hacking into the bank servers. Does he feel bad about stealing? Yeah. But Peter’s a vigilante. He’s done worse than nabbing a monthly sum of a couple of hundreds from Lex Luthor’s off shore accounts. He’s not gonna get caught, and considering the guy’s rants on meta humans, Peter’s not feeling particularly guilty about it. He’ll do something good later to make up for it. Once he gets his footholds and can prepare his way back, he’ll even return to the rest of the money. Probably.

Peter left the cafe with his sheaf of flyers, stopping by an informational stand with free tourist maps and plucked one quickly from its plastic holder. He’ll pick something up from the food vendors on his way to the apartments. Peter began walking, taking in the sights of the gargoyles and-

“Nope!” He caught the wrist of a pickpocket. It’s a kid and he immediately felt bad.

“Lemme go. I ain’t done nothing to ya, ya Yorker tourist.”

“Okay,” Peter shrugged. “Don’t get caught the next time?”

The kid gaped at him. “Shi’, you must be really good at it. I’ve never been caught before.”

Peter wisely refrained from telling the kid it was due to his spidey-sense. He let go of the kid’s wrist and let a bit more of his accent out. “Why’d you need money anyways?”

“Food, duh.”

“Dude, I’m starving. Tell you what. You show me the best sub shop nearby and I’ll pay for your food. Deal?”

The kid stared at him, wide eyed. “You’re fuckin’ nuts. Why’re you being nice?”

“I’m hungry? Do we have a deal, kid?”

“… Fuck it. Fine. And don’t call me kid, shrimp. You’re like what, eight?”

Oh. Yeah. Peter’s a kid now. He shrugged.

“I’m older than you. I’m twelve.”

Peter blinked, frowning at how thin the kid’s wrists were.

“I’m Peter!”

“… Frank.”

He let Frank lead the way. Stranger danger doesn’t apply to him, he’s a grown ass man. In the body of a ten year old him, but still. A couple of minutes, four sandwiches and a load of chips later, Frank was watching wide eyed as he demolished three four dollar subs.

“Holy shit. Where are you packing that away? You’re a stick!”

Peter took a big bite of the sandwich as an answer. Frank looked down at his meal.

“Uh. Hey.”

Peter made a muffled noise of question, mouth stuffed full of steak and cheese.

“Sorry about. Uh. Trynna nick from ya.”

Peter chewed faster.

Frank continued, looking like he hated himself. “I wouldn’t… normally steal from shrimps like you but I was desperate and… really hungry, so. My bad.”

Peter finished chewing. “All good, dude. Eat your sandwich.”

Peter had the sudden urge to adopt Frank. Unlike Wayne, he’s not a billionaire, so he smacked that urge down. He could use a friend though. Now… how to be friends with a literal child!

“If you feel that bad about it, you could… be my friend?”

Peter took in the wide eyed gaze from the twelve year old in front of him. Abort! Abort! That was too direct!

“You’re fucking weird. But… okay.”

“That was easy.”

Frank scowled, kicking Peter’s shin.

“Ow!”

“Whatever, shrimp.”

Peter scowled. On his baby face, it came out as a pout.

Do not start beef with a twelve year old, Peter. You’re a grown ass adult.

“Hey, you know I’m new here, right?”

“Duh.” Frank took a bite of his food.

“Can you tell me which one of these are legit?” Peter handed Frank the flyers. He took them, an odd look passing his face.

“You’re looking for a place?”

“Yeah? Why?”

Frank stared at him. Looked back down. He instantly got rid of four listings out of the ten. “These are too close to the Alley. They’re probably traffickers.”

Peter hummed in agreement. Frank paused.

“You’re just gonna trust me on that?”

“Yeah? I can tell when people are lying.” Well, his spidey sense could, when he cared enough about the subject.

“What the fuck.” Frank shoved the rest the papers at him and guiltily munched on his food. “Are Yorkers all just like you?”

“Dunno? Probably not.”

“… Whatever. The rest of the places should work. They probably won’t ask questions.” Frank flapped a hand at Peter’s new situation. Yeah, the shortness was getting to him too.

Peter nodded. Obviously, they were the more expensive places, but considering the new found resources he’d… acquired during his time at the cafe, it doesn’t really matter.

“Cool! Wanna go see it with me?”

Frank immediately took on a suspicious glare. “Why?”

“I dunno? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought since you know your way around…”

“Ugh. Fine. But if there’s anything shady, I’m fucking dipping out.”

“Okay!” Peter grinned for the first time the couple of hours he’d been trapped in this new world.

——

They’d found an apartment with a landlord that got a weird, sad face when she was talking to them about the apartment. After like, an hour of walking around and Peter’s spidey sense screaming at him not to even go near the places Frank had left in the pile of maybe’s.

“We walked all the way here. Ya not even gonna go in?”

“The vibes are off. It’s a no.”

And because Peter’s a genius idiot with no self preservation, he’d marked the places to investigate later.

Frank had blinked at him, mildly offended and nonplussed. After a while of spluttering, he just gave up. Eventually, they got here.

“I don’t normally rent to kids,” the landlord lady said. Peter immediately liked her. “But I’ll make an exception if you’ve got the cash.”

“I’d like to see the unit first, please” Peter said. He’s not stupid, and Gotham’s renting scene is both easier and harder than New York.

They toured it. Peter? He’d seen worse. He’d lived worse. Also, it had two bedroom and was $620. Yeah, Peter was really considering just staying here full time and commuting to his New York when he wanted to be a vigilante.

“I’ll take it, ma’am.” The landlord and Frank both snorted, sharing a Gothamite look.

“It’s Georgie, to you, brat. You just need the first month’s rent, since I’ll wave the deposit for you shrimps. Utilities included. Your friend stayin’?”

“No-” Frank had started.

“Yep!” Peter beamed, interrupting his new friend.

“What?” Frank turned, gaping again at this weird little kid who had enough money to rent a place and then invited a whole ass street kid he just met to live with him. “Are you stupid?! What if I rob you? Huh? I don’t need charity!”

Peter slowly looked around the empty unit.

“Uh.”

“No, that’s not the point!” Frank pointed a finger at Peter. “That’s how you get yourself killed!”

“But that’s why you should stay! I don’t know my way around Gotham so…”

Peter looked up at Frank, using his shortness for maximum devastation. “Please?”

Georgie leaned back on the heels of her feet, silently laughing. It’s not every day she sees a Gothamite street kid get out stubborned by an outsider, but she knows better than anyone that Gotham is weak to genuine kindness. And this Peter kid, the one that reminds her so much of her own? He’s practically filled with it.

“Yeah, kid,” she said to Frank, snickering. “Look at him. He’s gonna get mugged two steps into the Alley. Or anywhere.”

Frank flailed, but eventually, Peter handed over the money to an amused Georgie who gave them two keys in return and a move in gift of a pot pie.

“I gotta. Uh. Go get my stuff.” Frank had mumbled, dazed at whatever the hell just happened.

“Okay! I’ll see if I can go get furniture!”

“And lift them with your shrimpy arm? You wish.”

“I can use a cart.”

And really, he could, because Gotham had a lot of abandoned carts laying around. Like a concerning amount.

“Can you even reach the handle?”

“I’m not that short!”

Frank snorted, Georgie’s own chuckles following a beat after. Peter scowled at them.

“Be right back,” Frank promised, holding the key like it was treasure. He had been homeless for two and a half years now, so in his eyes, that key was as good as gold. He had somewhere warm to stay. Trying to pickpocket Peter was the best mistake he’s ever made in his short life. But he didn’t want to take advantage of that, well, no, he did want to, but he doesn’t want to take the genuine kindness for granted so he’ll see if there’s any street furniture he could haul back on his way.

“Okay!”

Georgie watched him go and turned to Peter.

“If you need stuff, there’s a thrift store and a grocery store that way.” She gave him the directions.

——

As soon as Frank and Georgie left, Peter immediately left his new place (and holy shit, he really didn’t expect things to be this easy. In New York, he had to spend at least a week checking out places because he had to figure out whether the problem that cause subtle twinges with his spider sense was worth living with. Here? It’s too obvious.) to buy supplies. He had $400. Until his new card came in, at least. He’d put his new address into that bank account addressed to a “Anthony Benjamin” before ordering a “replacement card.”

Peter ran to the thrift store, hurrying before the last traces of the sun dipped below the smog of Gotham. A frankly absurd amount of blankets, towels, pillows, clothes, packaged boxers, socks and shoes around his size went into the cart. To his chagrin, Peter couldn’t actually see much over the cart. Why the hell was he such a short ten year old? He blasted through the store, also guesstimating Frank’s sizes. He tossed in curtains, a used set of glow in the dark stars, and a lamp.

He also grabbed mismatched mugs, bowls, a bundle of cutlery, and a dented microwave he casually pretended to struggle getting onto the bottom part of the cart. It’s like lifting grapes for him, but he looks like a ten year old so…

He, guiltily, bought a mildly fancy camera in a set, with two separate lenses, even if one was cracked.

Not bad, for $150 total. Peter is going to definitely seriously consider commuting to New York. They didn’t even care when he walked out with the cart! Well, that might be because of the cashier who gave him a pitying glance.

He stopped by a general store on the way back, parking his cart in a rapidly shadowy alleyway. He swung by the new section of the store that reminded him of a Dollar Tree and got cleaning supplies, toiletries, and two pans and a pot. He grabbed some canned food and a couple of frozen meals in the back. Seasonings, ramen, general pantry staples went in. A role of paper towel. Nice. Venom would have loved this store. With half of his budget blown for essentials, Peter quickly cut his spending off and

He quickly gathered his stuff and went back to the apartment, using his strength a bit to lift the full cart up the stairs at the front doors and into the elevator. It creaked like the first time they used it to go see the apartment, but it worked. Peter set everything up in the living room, pillow and blanket wise, and put everything in its proper place. The lamp was put up, giving more light than the old bulb in the ceiling light.

All Peter wanted to do was pass out, but since his dumbass took in a child, he couldn’t sleep until this place was relatively fit for a kid to live in. He also wanted to wait for

So, that’s what he did. Taking a sponge and the cleaning supplies he’d picked up earlier, Peter tackled the living room, scrubbing away at old stains and spraying mildew. He marked trouble spots- like that splinter worthy piece of floor next to the doorway leading to the hall between the bedrooms. Then the kitchen. By the time Frank cautiously peeked his head in from the front door, Peter had already finished scrubbing the over.

“Hey.”

Peter turned, grime on his face but grinning. “Hey!” I bought some stuff!”

Frank snorted at his face before glancing around the living room, eyeing the cart parked neatly on the side.

“So you did. Didn’t get mugged, did ya?”

“Rude. No, of course not.”

Frank gave him a… frankly… unimpressed look and dumped his bag next to the pile of blankets and pillows Peter had piled onto the floor. Sue hi’, they didn’t have beds yet.

“Got somethin’ for ya,” Frank said neutrally before dragging in…

“A coffee table!” Peter bounced towards Frank, hugging him before lugging in the heavy wooden table in. “You’re the best! Where’d you find it?!”

The tension, anxiety about Peter’s reaction, in Frank’s shoulders relaxed and the kid grinned. “Alley. Some asshole just left it there for anyone to hit with their car so I took it.”

“Nice! We can eat on this!”

——

When they were getting ready for bed, Peter insisting on showers for both of them, Frank had reared up at the clothes Peter bought for him. Peter pretended like he didn’t see anything and shove a whole tube of toothpaste and a new toothbrush at him.

“Ew. Do I have to?” Frank asked, wrinkling his nose but taking the items anyways.

“Yeah.” Peter said seriously. Frank gave a moment to wonder why he was taking orders from an eight year old before shrugging. He could brush his teeth in exchange for a roof over his head, food, and clothes. It’s not even a fair trade, for Peter, anyways. Frank was enough of an alley rat to take advantage of that.

——

When Frank passed out, Peter couldn’t sleep. He’s exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep.

So he took his new camera and climbed the fire escape to the roof top.

An hour later, he met his first vigilante.

“Hey, kiddo. I’m gonna need you to back away from the edge.”

“Woah!” Peter startled, jolting slightly off of the ledge he was balanced on. He twisted around to see Red Robin, hand outstretched and panicked look in his eyes.

“Dude. Warn a guy!” Peter said, even though his spider sense warned him of an approaching person that was actively watching him.

Red Robin held his hands up. “My bad. Would you- uh, not be on that ledge?”

“Yeah, sure. My bad, bro.” Peter obligingly stood up and stepped away from the ledge. Red Robin relaxed then did a double take. Peter frowned. Is there something on his face?

“What are you doing up here, kiddo? It’s late.”

Peter decided to scope out the vigilante. “Couldn’t sleep,” he held up his camera. “I’m taking pictures.”

“Oh. That’s cool! Can I see?” Red Robin approached warily, but relaxed when Peter didn’t spook and try to take a shortcut to ground floor.

“Sure! It’s a new, well, not new but new to me, camera so I haven’t had all that time to mess with the specs but the pictures turned out pretty good-”

“Oh, woah. This one’s great. That composition? Amazing. You caught the light perfectly,” Red Robin complimented. Peter brightened, knowing a photography fan when he hears one.

“Photography buddy!” He cheered.

They talked for an hour after that, but Red Robin quickly sent him to bed once he remembered the time.

“Ah, shi- crap. It’s like 2AM. You’ve gotta go to bed.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry if I interrupted your patrol, Mr. Red Robin!”

“No problem, kid.” Peter slipped back down the fire escape, not caring if the vigilante saw where he lived.

——

Up on the rooftop, Red Robin pressed a hand to his comm.

“Red Robin to Nightwing.”

“What’s up, Red?”

“Do you have a kid you don’t know about?” Tim said, bluntly.

“… What?”

“Oracle, can you share my cowl footage?”

“Copy. Oh, that kid…”

“Looks exactly like Wing?” Tim said, peering down at the empty fire escape. “Yeah. Talked like him too.”

“Oh my god, he’s adorable.” Oracle said. Tim agreed. That curly hair? Baby face? Adorable. A bean. “Did you get DNA?”

“Ah, shit, I knew I forgot something.”

“Do not break into his place and nab a hair,” Nightwing reprimanded, but his voice sounded distracted.

“Holy shit, you guys nerded out about camera placement and lighting for an hour?” Hood piped up.

“Get some rest, Red Robin. You’ve been working too hard,” Batman grunted through the comms. Awkward… but he’s been getting better at communicating his worry for his kids.

“Sure thing, B. Heading back to the main cave. Red Robin out.

——

Peter: lay low and get home

Also Peter: talks to a vigilante

None of them think Peter’s Nightwing’s yet. Peter will know before them… eventually. Once this world’s version of him gives up his memories to be absorbed by AU Peter.

#batman #peter parker #dc x marvel #Peter Parker gets yeeted into Gotham #spiderman #oc #red robin #dark matter #inspidered by the fic dark matter #yes that’s a pun #dick Grayson #nightwing #dick grayson is Richard Parker #richard parker #Oracle #Jason Todd #red hood #tfw you get conan’ed #Peter: making friends one roof top at a time #Spider in Gotham AU

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

I’m just going to throw down my thoughts now real quick. Someone is obviously going to get taken over by Fyodor. This takeover seems to require blood to activate. Here are the potential options, rated lowest to highest by my own personal interest.

Random character we’ve never met - the easy and boring answer. Fyodor will body snatch one of the vampire guards he was communicating with. Fair amount of likelihood since he could easily have made the transfer of blood at any point, though I’m not sure yet if it needs to be an instantaneous thing or if his blood can lie dormant. Either way I think it’s a bit of an ass-pull with no stakes on our cast so I’m hoping this isn’t the case.

A named character outside Meursault - Probably someone he’s had a lot of contact with, so Fukuchi. This depends on the blood having a latency period and is also insanely contrived. I actually hate it more than the random guard.

The Catgirl thief - I’m assuming this is extremely unlikely since the host needs to be alive. But anyways. Women lovers here’s how we lose even worse.

Having said this now, I think it’s fairly obvious it has to be one of the other Meursault four. This is appropriately thematic and tragic, given that all of them place a lot of value on free will and self-determination, which a takeover by Fyodor would rob them of.

Chuuya - He spent a lot of time around Chuuya to be sure but there’s no blood on him. If there’s a latency period though, it is possible. I’m not feeling this one though, to be honest. I don’t see what narrative purpose it serves - Chuuya hasn’t had enough of a role in the manga for this to mean much, other than royally pissing Dazai off (which to be fair is definitely in character for Fyodor). I think it far more likely that Chuuya is going to be a witness for whatever comes next.

Sigma - High likelihood. He did get stabbed and had the memory transfer. I can’t remember whether Fyodor touched him with his wounded hand. It would be brutal for this to happen to him after he’d just broken free from his manipulation. But honestly I don’t know that Sigma getting taken over is all that interesting. For one, they’re going to need his knowledge (though that may be a reason for Fyodor to off him truthfully), and for another, I just don’t think Sigma’s… done enough as a character. I feel it would kind of render his arc in Meursault pointless to end his story here.

Nikolai - The most likely possibility to me. He is holding Fyodor’s severed hand, which he touched to his face. Fyodor’s ability probably kickstarts after his death, and Nikolai was the first to get his blood on him. Sadly, I suspect that if this is the case, this will be the end for Nikolai. If he gets taken over, I can’t see a reason or method to restore him to himself. What a horribly tragic end this would be to our favourite clown, his freedom snatched away for good by the one person he couldn’t help but get attached to.

Dazai - I dismissed this off-hand at first. Of course I did, Dazai is immune to abilities. I also want to be clear that I seriously doubt Asagiri will off his favourite boy like this. But oh man. What if Fyodor’s ability isn’t an ability, much like in the first skk manga team up? What if them both being there is a call-back to Rimbaud who snatched corpses, and Lovecraft who could hurt Dazai? What if Fyodor really has become no longer human - and this is the proof? I was kind of hoping the Meursault arc would end with Dazai (temporarily!) out of the picture, and this would be a way to do it - Atsushi and Akutagawa would have to step up, Chuuya could be more relevant. We could even have more Kyouka if what I’m starting to wonder is true - that Fyodor was involved in the death of her parents. At the same time, Dazai’s special boy plot armour nullification and mysteriousness gives us a plausible reason to bring him back. And all the while maybe they could continue their mind games, with Dazai being an annoying little pest in the back of Fyodor’s mind.

#I’m screaming asagiri please give us bad ending #also I think chuuya would rapidly lose the idgaf war if he saw dazai being taken over like that which is. just a bonus for me. #realistically though my money’s on nikolai. sorry jester man I think you might be doomed :( #bsd #storyrambles #bsd meta #bsd chapter 114 #bsd spoilers #bsd fyodor #bsd chuuya #bsd sigma #bsd nikolai #bsd dazai

[steviesbicrisis]

Dustin had been waiting this moment for months.

Mind you, Dustin isn’t one to bring up his personal life to the public at any chance he gets, but a part of him really wants everyone to know his role in one of the most important up-coming weddings of the year.

“So, I’ve heard you had a big role in all of this, what happened?” The host asks, on the edge of his seat.

“Well, I know Eddie cause we’ve done some livestreams together, we’ve met a couple of times and he seemed cool. And I know Steve cause, other than working together, he’s basically a brother to me, you know-” the audience interrupts him with a big ‘aaaaw’ sound and loud clapping.

“I think you misunderstood me, he’s the type of older brother who is no fun and makes you wish either of you was adopted.”

The audience laughs.

“Anyways, we were all at a party and I introduced them and Eddie was, you know, immediately obsessed with Steve. But Steve was engaged at the time,” Dustin decides to not dwell on this part of the story, it was a very tough time for Steve and some of it was public enough to make it worse. Dustin is just happy that he can talk about Steve’s ex-fiancé in the past tense.

“Time goes on, and as soon as the news of Steve being single again hits the public, I get a call from one begging Eddie Munson-” he wasn’t really begging but Dustin wants to sell the story “-asking about Steve once again. Like, how was he? Was he fine? Ready to meet other people? and I was like 'I don't know dude, I don't ask him about his dating prospects daily' and that's when he asked for Steve's number."

Dustin takes a small pause before going into the next part of the story "Obviously I don't go around giving people Steve's number, and I get asked a lot," the audience laughs again, "so I do the decent thing and ask Steve can I give Eddie your number? is it okay?

And Steve goes all into this theatrical performance Oi, no, mamma mia," Dustin goes strong with the Italian accent "All these men, che palle, they never leave me alone. Oddio-”

The host interrupts him “wait, does Steve have this strong Italian accent?”

“Of course not, he was born in Indiana, I’m trying to sell the story man!” Dustin pretends to be annoyed and the host goes along with it, making the audience laugh and cheer.

“Anyways, he was trying to say no but clearly meant yes. So I gave Eddie the number and whatever Eddie did with it, must’ve been the right call.”

A photo of Steve’s engagement announcement appears behind them right after: Steve and Eddie’s hands, finger intertwined and matching rings.

“Clearly he did” the host agrees after the clapping and cheering from the audience dies down.

“And what about wedding gifts? Are you doing something with the whole group? Or is it a solo thing?” The host inquires.

“Uh, I gave Steve a husband?? He should be giving me gifts”.

———

Predictably, the interview goes viral.

A few days later, Dustin comes back home to find a gift waiting for him.

It’s two VIP tickets for one of Eddie’s shows under his and Suzie’s name (a YouTuber friend Dustin didn’t have the courage to ask out, yet).

The note attached to the box is simple and very clear.

“Thank you, little shit. Now that we are even, the wedding gift is expected or you’ll be grounded.

See you at the wedding

S&E”

Despite being a twenty something, successful and independent since he was 17, Dustin takes the threat very seriously.

#inspired by Jessie Ferguson talking about Sofia Vergara’s wedding #a silly thing to come back to posting #yaaay #I love Dustin #they’re all internet famous #Eddie is a musician who started as a YouTuber and still makes videos sometimes #the party & Steve are famous for making content together regularly #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve and eddie #stranger things #steve x eddie #dustin henderson #YouTuber steve #streamer steve #streamer Dustin #musician Eddie

[potionpeddlerpatchy]

word count: 10.2K

paring: Sero x fReader

warning(s): dirty talking, fingering(f! receiving), premature ejaculation, messy sex, semi-public sex (if ya squint) - you know the works here, pretty standard smut, nothing too crazy.

authors note: Happy Belated Birthday to me! Not only did the amazing Onyx give me this idea MONTHS ago about the dynamic between Sero and I, but this won the poll for what I was going to work on next - and though I went with Bakugou's story first (cause it was fresher in my mind) I have finally finished this! AND OH BOY, how self-indulgent I was with this one - I am not known for my dialog but couldn't help but put lots in here! That being said, I did try and keep this as generic as I could, just may not be AS generic, ya know? Anyway, I hope you all love this glorified tape dispenser as much as I do~🔮

Sero had always loved to draw, even when he was a little kid. What started as scribbles covering the walls of his home turned into small doodles - those that filled his notebooks more than his writing and school work turned into piles and piles of sketchbooks that were filled with intricate drawings and were stacked high within the confines of his room. 

He remembered being little, using washable markers to doodle fun patterns and designs on his arms and the arms of his friends, remembering how most recess breaks were filled with doing a doodle request for several fellow classmates. To being older, and having those same classmates come up to him to see if they could utilize his skills to make projects look nicer; to make epic banners for school events, or to make posters pop in his signature way. Even while he was in college, next to a prestigious art school that only accepted a handful of creatives a year, he had people beg him to create designs for tattoos they were wanting to get; willing to pay lots of money so they could forever have a drawing of his on their skin.

And that sparked something inside him. A passion to turn a hobby into a career.

It took years and years of effort, of schooling, of practicing, of littering his skin with designs both good and bad - and subsequently spending more time fixing his faults - and then shadowing those more experienced, to be taken into their shops and under their wings, so he may draw on the bodies of those that were hoping to decorate their skin. Not all patrons were ideal; some were not hygienic, and others moved too much and then complained of sloppy work, demanding a refund. And not all shop owners were pleasant to work for; many accepted clients even when they shouldn't, often dismissing those beneath them out of pride and a superiority complex, and always taking the side of those patrons trying to scam him and his time. But there were a few people that made it all worth it in the end, a few colleagues turned friends that made ‘sticking it out’ much more bearable.

And without all the bumps and hurdles, Sero would not have become as confident in his abilities and his worth, and he would not have had the chance to meet so many amazing people and artists - some of which had the same goal and ideas in mind as he did; who would follow him wherever he went. Before he even knew it, Hanta Sero finally achieved his goal, of making his childhood dream and hobby into a reality. He finally owned his tattoo parlor. 

He found a little shop within the city, perfect enough for him and a few friends to call their own, to create their own brand, and to make their own living; to finally call the shots and have complete creative control. The building itself was a little run down - something to be expected with the small price tag attached - but it was the ideal size for all of them and in the perfect location. So no one cared that it needed a few months of intense TLC to get the building up to code, it was more than worth the effort. And before anyone knew it the inspector came to claim the building was up to standards, giving the business license and the all-clear to start accepting patrons; it only took a few days before people heard the news.

When word got around that Sero and his business partners had finally opened their shop, to start accepting clients and creating art on their skin that they would enjoy for a lifetime, so many jumped on the chance to get an appointment with them - Sero especially. Some were people he had known for years, eagerly awaiting another drawing of ink, and some were those that saw his work on the many social pages advertising the business that wanted to add another to their growing collections. Whatever the case was, once he turned on the neon ‘open’ sign on the day of opening, he and his friends were booked for months in advance.

And the cherry on top of all of this? Another wonderful addition to the streams of success he was facing, was the bookstore that sat just across the street from him. 

Not because he was into books, though he did read from time to time and enjoyed it when he did, but because of the owner that bookshop had. At first, he couldn’t be sure you were the owner, but day in and day out he watched you show up at opening and leave at closing, and unless you were an incredibly dedicated employee, it was an easy assumption to make. And Sero couldn’t deny that he thought you were pretty when he first caught sight of you through his window after closing on his first day; and he couldn’t deny that he would wait with anticipation when you closed your shop and would begin making your way home, just so he could get a glimpse of your cute face.

He wished he had the free time to go and speak to you, to see you up close and hear your voice (which he could just tell was adorable and sweet), but his clientele made it nearly impossible for him to get the chance. By the time the last client would leave, your shop would already be closed, and for some time, with you nowhere in sight. There were just simply not enough hours in the day for him to spare to meet you; as well he was terrified of canceling an appointment or rejecting a client so early on in all of this, afraid that one bad comment could ruin the shop and cause it to sink.

But Sero always made the best of any situation, that was part of his charm. He figured that if he didn’t have the time to go in and speak to you, to properly act on his little crush, he would let you know who he was and his existence through different means. 

Romantic gestures that could be seen as small and friendly - those that wouldn’t scare you off or have you become afraid. He started by sending you flowers; a small bouquet to help liven your shop if you wanted; which you did if the vase by your check-out counter was any indication. Next were chocolates, all bundled in pretty wrapping paper for you to carefully tear away. Then balloons, attached to a small gift basket with quality skincare items that could be found at his shop with his business card nustled amongst the jars and tins to ensure that you knew who sent them and that it was from the new neighbor across the street - not some strange admirer. 

He could tell that you liked them, given the delight that bloomed on your face whenever you received them - the bright smile as you brought those flowers to your nose to inhale their earthy scent, or when you eagerly started to open up some of the chocolates to enjoy, or when you carefully inspected each tin of cream; placing a small dollop on the back of your hand before putting them aside and back to your work. Sero especially knew you liked them when, a week later, you sent a gift basket back to him filled with artisan treats from the local farmers market; with a card welcoming the new store to the neighborhood.

After a while of staring hopelessly at you, to the point where all his friends were relentlessly teasing him, Sero finally made the decision to meet you properly; to make his way over to your shop to say hello. 

“And it has nothing to do with Kaminari!” he exclaimed at Kirishima and Mina, ensuring they could hear him over the snickering, as he grabbed his jacket to sling over his shoulders.

“Sure, whatever you say, big guy~” Mina sang as waved goodbye with a wink, clearly not buying it - especially as Kaminari just got back from your shop, book in hand that you recommended.

Sero shook his head, out of frustration at Mina’s words knowing that she called his bluff, as he slammed the door shut behind him and briskly walked across the street; breathing a sigh of relief, one that made the tension in his shoulder slack, when he stepped foot into your shop. It was everything he thought a bookstore should be; it was cozy and warm, the kind that would make anyone instantly at ease and would spend hours just curled up to read; which he assumed the patron he walk passed had been doing all day.

“Welcome! Can I help you?” A voice sang through the air, causing his head to turn to face a young woman - sadly not you - wearing an apron with the store's logo on it.

“Uh, not sure.” Sero smiled, nodding his head in acknowledgment, and as a polite hello, before gazing around.

“First time here?” She inquired, moving behind a nearby counter to grab a stack of books.

“Yeah, pretty obvious huh?”

“A little, many have the look on their face when they first come in. It’s a little overwhelming at times, the place is a bit bigger than they assume.”

“You could say that again…” Sero could hear her airy giggle, watching in the corner of her eye as she began to sort through the titles.

“I can give you the run down if you like?”

“Please, if you don’t mind.”

“Not a problem at all, sir.” She smiled, pausing her task to free her hands for gesturing with her explanation  “This place is a lot like a library, people can come and go as they please, staying all day if they want to, without the pressure of needing to buy something. They can also borrow books for a small fee if they want, to ensure they don’t waste their money on a bad book, or they can obviously purchase them if they want.”

“A safe haven for those that love books, huh?” Sero chimed with a smile, taking another glance at all the sitting areas close to him - the plush pillows and fireplace inviting for those that would want to curl up.

“Pretty much, that was the idea” The employee agreed, already starting to sort again “Have a look and take all the time you need.”

Sero left her with a ‘thank you’ and another nod before venturing further into the store - taking stock of what sections of books there were and all the small cozy nooks for people to curl up in; taking his time to explore the entirety of the shop before leaving. “For research purposes, in case I wanna go back” he would mumble to himself, ready to defend his actions from his teasing friends upon his return. It was for those reasons, and those alone, not at all because he was trying to find you.

He finally did come across you, after what seemed like hours of searching, hidden away within the Historical Fiction sections tucked near the back walls, shelving some books that were stacked within your arms and reorganizing the ones that had been misplaced. To say Sero was smitten with you would have been an understatement before, but now? Seeing you so close? Smitten would not even begin to compare to how love-struck he was; one so strong it struck him dumb and left him unable to do anything but look at you.

“Sir?” 

Sero couldn’t tell if he was lucky or not to have your voice call out to him; luck that it broke him out of the stupor he was in, unlucky that he was unable to say or do anything more than gaze up at you with his mouth agape.

“Do… do you need help with anything?” Your sweet voice called out to him again, though clearly confused, and it made Sero look away to try and gain his thoughts once more.

“A-art book.” He cleared his throat, cheeks turning hot and red as his eyes did their best to look anywhere but you “Looking for one of those.”

“Well, which one?” You smiled, biting your lip to hide it as you gently placed the books you were holding down.

“Art, The Definitive Visual Guide” Sero blurted, voice sounding rushed as he named the first art book he bought when in college; watching as your brows furrowed as you took a moment to process what he said.

“By Dixon?” 

“Y-yes!” Sero exclaimed, eyes brightening and heart swelling with pride when you giggled over his excitement.

“Well, that would be in our art section, which would be…” You began to lean forward, carefully perching yourself on your ladder to see past the bookshelf currently in your way “Ah! Just over there!”

“O-over there?” Sero nodded, trying his best to not be affected by the smell of your shampoo as it lingered in the air as you moved to stand upright again “T-that’s perfect thank you!”

“Oh, no worries at all! You just let me know if you can’t find it okay?” You smiled, already picking your books back up.

Sero smiled back, giving a wave goodbye, before almost scurrying away; head hanging in defeat once he knew you were out of sight. A small part of him hoped he couldn’t find the book so he could talk to you again, but he knew that would be a mistake - especially as the spine of the book stared right back at him when he first began looking in the section you sent him to. Begrudgingly he accepted his fate, bringing the book up to the front cash and paying the borrowing fee to the employee he met earlier.

He came back to the parlor feeling like a complete idiot over messing up his first proper encounter with you, not doing at all what he planned to do - not being the effortlessly charming and fun guy he knew he was. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t keep stopping by. 

After all, he had to return the book he borrowed.

~

Sero waited a week, in his mind if he went back the next day it would cause him more harm than good; would lead to you asking him way more questions than he would want about the book itself - and well, he already made a fool of himself once. Besides, the week-long buffer would allow him the chance to clear his head and come up with a game plan, so he could be properly prepared himself to see you again.

Because this time he wanted to start an actual conversation with you, one where he could learn about who you were, why you opened this store and everything in between that led to this moment in time. He wanted to know if his crush on you was justified, or if he should just cut his losses now before he was in too deep. But to be fair, based on what all his friends have said, he already was; even so, he couldn’t hold onto that book forever.

Regardless of what the outcome may be, he had to see you again; even if it meant rescheduling a client for a Sunday to make up the lost time, he just had to get to you and your store before closing.

And it was the perfect time to go he found. The store was almost completely empty, with seemingly no one else in the building but you as you began your usual routine for closing - so dutifully organizing stacks of papers and placing books that needed to be returned into a neat little pile; he almost felt bad for clearing his throat and breaking you out of your stride.

“H-hi!” You exclaimed, your body jolting in surprise when you regarded him, clearly not used to anyone being here so late “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you sooner, I hope you weren’t waiting long!”

“No you’re fine, I just walked in,” Sero reassured, taking a step closer to your counter.

“Oh, are you here to return that art book? The one by Dixon?” You asked, back straightening as you smiled up at him. “I hope you liked it!”

“I did, it was a great read.” Sero mirrored your smile as he handed the book back over to you, enjoying the way your smaller hand brushed against his briefly “Though I was wondering if you could me find a similar book?”

“Sure, of course! Do you want a recommendation or are you looking for a specific title?”

“Uh, Creatives on Creativity is what I am looking for,” Sero said, breathing a mental sigh of relief over remembering the title - one he only heard of a day prior when searching for art books to ask you about.

“Creatives on Creativity…” You mumbled, turning to your computer to check if you had the title in stock - the sound of a keyboard clacking could be heard, filling the silent space briefly “By Steve Brouwers?”

“Yup! That’s the one” Sero confirmed with a nod, perfectly hiding the fact he was completely unsure as he watched you round the counter of the counter with a wave.

“Yeah, we should have a few in stock if you would follow me!”

You took him back to the Art Section, your stride confident as you weaved your way through bookcases and magazine towers, as you began locating the book in question; trying to remember where exactly you cataloged it - whether it was with the Art Help books or the Art Education ones.

Sero followed behind you, keeping his stride to a more casual pace to avoid possibly stepping on your heels, as he regarded your profile; enjoying the concentrated gazes, those mixed with slight perplexity, as you looked from shelf to shelf trying to help him out. Never before was he grateful, and possibly will never be again, about having trouble trying to find a book.

“Can I ask you something?” He finally spoke, watching as you began to stand on a small stool to look at a higher shelf, figuring his time was running out.

“Uh, sure?” You muttered, voice soft as you continued on your hunt. “Go ahead”

“I’m sure you get asked this all the time, but I’m curious as to what a bookshop owner's favourite book is?” 

“Oh! Wow, that’s a great question!” You said, finally sparing him a brief glance with a smile “And one that’s kinda tough to answer. I love books from all genres for different reasons, so to compare one that’s horror to one that’s fantasy is a little difficult to do.”

“Well, what are you enjoying right now?” Sero asked, body leaning against the bookshelf so he could continue gazing up at you.

“Uhh, wow what am I reading right now?” You chuckled nervously as your mind began to race, feeling your cheeks heat up as you heard him do so as well “Let's see… probably The Historian, it’s a thriller mystery kinda deal - involves vampires and stuff - it’s proving to be quite fun” 

“Vampires?”

“Yeah… it’s historical fiction. It blurs the lines of what happened with whatever our imaginations can think of with the folklore of Vlad Țepeș and Dracula. Partly why I like it I guess…”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Sero hummed, watching as you scanned the titles before you, almost as if you were counting each one for inventory later “Take it that’s why you opened this place? Fell in love with reading books from far and wide?”

“Something like that” You agreed with a shrug of your shoulders “Wanted to be a librarian, always thought they had a great gig going on, and one thing led to another and, well, here we are.”

As you spoke your deft fingers delicately pulled the book you both were looking for from its place in the self, where it was hiding. Once you secured it in your grip, you slowly descended from your stool handing the book out to him once your feet were securely on the ground.

“And here you are.” You smiled, watching as he stood upright and uncrossed his arms.

“Thanks, for finding this for me” He gingerly took the book from you and tucked it under his arm, smiling wider at your cheery response back; following you obediently back up to the cash to once again pay the borrowing fee.

“Hey, if you don’t mind…” Sero began, fingers tapping nervously against the wood of the countertop “I have one more question to ask ya.”

“Sure, go ahead!” You giggled, amused by his polite curiosity as you began the transaction of payment.

“Would you want to go for some coffee sometime?”

His question made your fingers fumble on the touchpad, causing an error screen to pop up and for you to almost frantically try to fix, and you nervously cleared your throat; face going hot in surprise and embarrassment over your stumbled, and failed, answer back.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you or make you uncomfortable” Sero tried to soothe, hands raising up and away from the bubble around you to prove he meant no harm “Just think you’re cute and would like to treat you to some coffee, that’s all.”

“W-well, that’s um, very sweet of you, I just um…” You floundered, doing your best to finish quickly so you could hide away from him - to shield him from witnessing your embarrassment further “Just don’t think that would be a good idea?”

“You don’t? Why not?”

“Y-you know, we’re strangers! We only met a few days ago and all….”

“Actually we’re neighbors, good ones at that if our gift exchange was anything to go by.” Sero clarified, watching as the realization of who he was crossed your face, his hands lowered to shove themselves in his jacket pockets before shrugging his shoulders “But hey, not gonna pressure you or anything. If you don’t want to that’s cool, I won’t pressure you!”

“I’m flattered, believe me, just….” You countered a sheepish look on your face as you passed the book back his way for him to take “Maybe some other time.”

“Sure thing, thank you again,” Sero said, giving you one last small smile before taking his book and leaving; wishing you a good night as he walked past the threshold of your store with a wave.

A few things were certain that night; the first being that you were worth having a crush on, and he would love the chance to treat you right. And second, you were not used to the straightforward approach, and if he didn’t want to screw anything up, he would have to be patient and go about things slowly.

But Sero Hanta was up for any challenge, and you were more than worth the wait.

~

After that night, Sero found himself stopping by your shop a few times a week; to return a new book he borrowed (and spent the night before diligently reading), and to further chat with you. The conversations were always led by a question or two before it sparked into something beautiful - he loved the way you would ramble, talking with your hands, as you explained something, how passionate you got over the things you loved, and how blessed he found himself when you tried to tell a story from when you were younger but couldn’t over your laughter of remembering it all.

And after each night, when the conversation had reached its end and the book he had paid for was tucked snugly under his arm, he would, without fail, ask you out on a date as he was leaving your shop; in love with the smile and the amused shake of your head when you bid him a simple goodnight, to - “try again some other time” - before shutting the door behind him and switching you sign to closed.

Slowly but surely you were coming out of your shell, becoming more than eager to spend the last hour in his company; you didn’t realize it right away, but soon you found yourself noticing how excited you got when you would greet him. Or how you would try and keep the conversation going just a little bit longer as you walked to the cash, not wanting the night to end so soon. And how you would linger close to him before closing the door and saying good night. He was fun company, some of the best you ever had, and you couldn’t deny that you were starting to catch feelings for him too; to slowly become as enamored as he was.

Sero noticed this little factor as well, after a couple of months of visiting, when it was you who ask him a question; as you gingerly took hold of his arm to get a better look at the intricate tattoo that was perfectly placed on his forearm after handing him his recently purchased item.

“Did you do this yourself?” You whispered, almost in awe, as your fingertips barely brushed over the details of the design.

“Yeah,” Sero breathed out, quite taken aback by your bold action - though nowhere near complaining. “Took a while, but I think it turned out great.”

“Did you design it too?”

“Mm-hmm, designed all the tattoos on my body.” His eyes shifted their gaze from his arm to your face, “Wanted to work on my skin first before anyone else’s, just in case I wasn’t good at it.”

“I think it’s safe to say that you are, it’s beautiful work.”

“Do you have one?” 

“N-no…” You broke your gaze away, taking a step back from him - completely aware of how close and possibly inappropriate you were behaving.

“You want one?” Sero inquired with a clear of his throat; wanting nothing more than to move closer to you again, to gain that moment of intimacy once more, but knew he couldn’t

“Well yeah,” You shrugged, looking anywhere but at him, “But I just never really know what to get, and I don’t wanna regret getting something cause it’ll be on my skin forever, you know?”

“I can design something for you if you want?” 

“You would?”

“Obviously, wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to!” He smiled, grabbing a piece of scrap paper and a marker from your countertop “Just tell me some things that you like, and I’ll come up with something! See, I already know you like owls, and foxes, and of course historical fiction and fantasy books…”

“Sero, listen this is really sweet! I am honored you would do this for me and all but….” You began, cutting him off from his parade of knowledge of all things you loved - heart swelling almost uncomfortably with the attention - “But really, you don't have to do this for me.”

“You kidding, I would love to! If I didn’t I wouldn’t have done this for a living; hard to make a career out of something you hate!”

“Yeah, clearly, I obviously get it. But even so, you’re booked for months! You got plenty of other clients that need your attention and designs a lot more than I do.”

“Oh ho~ How do you know I’m booked for months?” Sero teased, enjoying how you looked away in fake annoyance as your shoulders raised in embarrassment “Even if I was, which you’re so cutely right that I am, I would reserve a spot for you regardless.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it can be after hours too, if you wanted.” Sero offered, with a shrug “Ya know if that would help put your nerves at ease; less people and all that stuff. And it could help make you feel better about accepting my offer~ I wouldn’t have to cancel on a client if you did.”

You sighed, shoulder slumping as you weighed his very tempting offer. You had been wanting a tattoo, ever since the new parlor opened across the street; and especially so every time you looked in Sero’s direction - the ink that was littered across his skin was beautiful - now here was the most perfect opportunity to finally get one and to get some more alone time with the artist himself; you knew you would regret it every day if you said no; despite your nerves telling you otherwise.

Squaring your shoulders you finally looked back at him, giving him a nod of approval over his proposition.

“Yes!” His fists thumped the counter as he proclaimed his excitement over your acceptance “I promise you won’t regret it! I’ll start working on the designs tonight and will have them done A-S-A-P!”

“Okay, okay!” You laughed, playfully rolling your eyes at his childish behavior “Sounds good to me.”

“Oh! One more thing!” He passed the marker over to you, his palm slayed out as if acting as a canvas “I’ll need your number so I can both let you know when the design is done and so I can book you in for your appointment.”

“Okay, well then hand me the paper you were just scribbling on” You pointed and the scrap paper, brows furrowing when you watched him shake his head ‘no”. 

“No can do babe, it’s covered with stuff already. Just write it on my hand”

“Sero, this is a permanent marker, I’m not going to do that!”

“I think I’m more than comfortable with permanent ink on my skin,” Sero winked, moving his palm closer to you “It’ll come off in a few days, but hey, if you don’t want me to leave you could just say so~”

You couldn’t help rolling your eyes again, hating that he was right and you were wasting time yet again to have him stay longer. You acquiesced, taking hold of his hand to keep it steady as you carefully wrote your number, being sure it was as clear as possible to avoid any confusion or mishaps that could be caused if you didn’t.

You watched as Sero left, head held high and chest filled with puffed-up pride as he sauntered back to the parlor; clearly happy with himself at winning you over and gaining your number.

~

It only took four days before you got the message from Sero; stating, with plenty of exclamation marks, about how your design was done and to stop by at any time to come and review the sketches - he was more than happy to squeeze you in at a time that worked best for you; whether that be between a client or after-hours.

And well, the thought of coming after hours was tempting, your confidence in quelling those nerves that swam in your stomach wasn’t strong enough yet; you were already pushing your limits when it came to the tattoo appointment. But the thought of you extending your lunch break by a few minutes seemed like a good idea.

The sign said ‘Closed for Lunch’ when you finally made your way across the street, and though Sero was insistent that you could come in regardless, you were still a little hesitant; standing by the door debating whether to knock or just walk in.

The decision was made for you when a woman with beautiful soft pink hair opened the door, startling you out of your thoughts as she asked if she could help you with anything.

“I-i’m just here to review some sketches…” You mumbled, hands playing nervously with your phone that still had the messages from Sero open “But I can come back if you’re closed!”

“It’s with Sero right?” She inquired, golden eyes squinting at you as they scanned you from head to toe; 

“Yeah..” You nodded your head, trying your best not to shift your body in reaction to her gaze.

“Oh my gosh! So it’s you! The librarian across the street!” She squealed, wasting no time in taking your arm and pulling you into the shop  “I’ve heard so much about you! Just been dying to meet you! I’m Mina, one of the artists here.”

“Bookstore owner….” You mumbled, casting a shy smile her way as you gave her your name “Heard about you as well, it’s really nice to meet you too”

“Right, bookstore owner, sorry about that!” Mina waved in apology, taking a step back to appraise you once more “and I gotta say, super jealous of Sero that he snagged you as his client; you’re a total babe! Like, that outfit is to die for! Where’s you get it?”

You could feel the blood rush to your face at her statement, her brazen compliment both flattered and embarrassed you as you mumbled out a ‘thank you’ as you gazed down at what you were wearing.

“And oh my god, your nails!” She exclaimed again, taking hold of your hand to inspect closely inspect your delicately painted fingernails “These are so pretty! Where’d you get them done?”

“Uh, the spa a few blocks down the road” You answered with a breathless laugh at her enthusiasm “They always do a good job.”

“I can tell! I’ve always wanted to check them out, but was a little unsure, but now I’m definitely gonna go as soon as I can!” She squealed, squeezing your hand in delight “Oh, but you’re not here for me, which is a total bummer. Sero’s station is just back here, I’ll let him know you’re here!”

You gave her your thanks, appreciating her help and unknowingly helping you become more at ease, as she led you to Sero’s area; leaving you with a wave and a promise he’ll join you in a few minutes. 

His area was quite spacious, possibly the largest out of the others you passed, and the furthest from the front door. His chair and equipment sat near the center of it all, just slightly off to the left for others to pass by, and looked clean and organized as you peered around the room. He had a work table as well, pressed up against the wall, with a book of design and sketches.

If you were braver you would have opened it and gone through the slightly worn pages to see what they contained. But instead, you opted to scan the wall before you, taking in the fun, wild, and beautiful designs that were taped to them; staring in awe at just how beautiful they all were. Masterpieces in black and coloured ink, ones you were sure some lucky people got to wear proudly on their skin.

Or perhaps they were littered on his…

Sadly, you couldn’t allow your mind the chance to wander to such thoughts, to wonder just how much of his body was covered in ink and how low some tattoos would travel, before you hear his footsteps approaching.

“Hey! Admiring the wall?” He greeted, his smile as bright and friendly as always when he greeted you

“Yeah, the designs are beautiful” You glanced back at him with a smile “But I think you already knew that.”

“What can I say, just like hearing people sing my praises!” He joked with an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders before walking up to you “But we’re not here to talk about these, eh?”

You watched as he gently, smoothly, pulled open a large drawer at the table you were currently standing at, one you didn’t realize was there given the sleek design. Carefully he pulled out a tiny stack of papers, laying them out before you to inspect and admire, as his arm kept him leaning over the table, and more importantly, you.

You tried your best not to be affected by his voice, how his breath tickled your ear, as he spoke about the direction he went with the designs. Some larger, more detailed as they encompassed all the things you loved - like the barn owl sounded by flora and books before a full moon - and some that were smaller, simply beholden of a single item you loved, like a sitting fox amongst fall leaves; and where on your body each tattoo would be placed.

He left a pause when he was done speaking, allowing you the chance to mill over what he said; to further inspect his designs, and to take your time in picking out what you wanted most; unable to help himself from staring at you, eyes half-lidded, as you bit your lip in concentration.

“I like the fox,” you finally whispered, pulling the sketch closer to you to admire it further, already imagining where it will sit on your arm.

“Yeah?” was all Sero could breathe out as he leaned in closer to you

“Mm-hmm” You nodded, finally turning your head to face him; watching as his eyes gazed at your lips, causing you to do the same “...h-how much will it be?”

You could feel your breath catching in your throat as Sero ignored your question, instead taking the opportunity to lean his face closer to yours; feeling his breath gently fan against your lips as you shut your eyes in anticipation; wanting nothing more than to feel what his kiss would be like.

“Sero, delivery is here!”

A gruff voice is what made you turn your head away; face scrunching in frustration over the unwanted interruption. You heard him sigh; feeling cold and a little disappointed when you felt his warmth pull away from you.

“Yeah… I’ll be right there Bakugou…” Sero spoke firmly, trying his best to keep his voice from sounding frustrated and annoyed as he looked back at his friend “Just finishing up here.”

Sero took another deep breath, one that turned into a loud sigh, over the now-ruined moment as he pulled the fox design from the pile of paper; taking a step away from you with a shake of his head.

“Don’t worry about paying, it’s on the house.” He gave a pained smile, slowly backing his way towards the backrooms, to where Bakugou was waiting “Just pick a day with Mina and we’ll go from there, ‘kay?”

You simply nodded your head, giving him a small smile and wave as you watched him disappear; taking the time to finally release the air you were holding as you clenched your fist in anger over your ruined kiss; at how perfect Bakugou’s timing was in all of it.

But after a moment, you couldn’t help but laugh; shaking your head in amusement as slowly made your way back to the front desk to book your appointment; knowing you had to get back to work soon and relieve your assistant.

~

It wasn’t long before the day of your tattoo arrived; the Saturday you booked it for came faster than anticipated, though the entire day felt like a year as you kept glancing at the clock to see how much time has passed, only to groan to yourself when it showed a mere 10-minutes.

Cataloging books did help with your dilemma, taking your mind off the many hours between you and seeing Sero again, as you continuously went up and down your little ladder to put the many returned books away. And before long, it was 9:00 pm, and you could flip your sign to ‘Closed’ and make your way across the street. 

You were surprised, given that the parlor was supposedly closed - or at the very least seeing their last clients at that point of the night - to see all the artists by the front desk chatting away; almost as if they were waiting for you to arrive.

“There you are!” Mina exclaimed, making her way from behind the desk over to where you stood, taking your jacket, and hanging it up for you “Thought you got cold feet on us!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that” You smiled, allowing her to complete her courteous gesture “And if I did cancel I would make sure you knew.”

“Are you excited!? First tattoos are always the most fun!”

“I am! Been looking forward to this all week!” 

“Oh, I’m sure you have~” Mina winked, “Now, let me introduce you to the other artist! Well, we’re all friends here but ya know.” She guided you over to where the three men stood, pointing first to a blonde with an unamused expression “You already met Bakugou last time you were here, I think you met Kaminari when he was at your store a few weeks back. And that giant redhead is Kirishima - he looks more scary than he is!”

 “It’s really nice to meet you!” Kirishima smiled, nudging Bakugou to acknowledge your presence - which he did in the form of a nod - before extending his hand out to you to shake “Heard a lot about you, been meaning to stop by your store for a while now. Apparently, you give good recommendations!”

“Oh, I do?” You asked, gingerly shaking his hand with a confused expression

“Of course you do, babe! Why else would Sero keep bugging you~” Kaminari jumped in, winking as he took your hand in his own and squeezed it “Nice to see you in our neck of the woods finally.”

“Okay okay! That’s enough, you guys!” Sero finally emerged, walking his way in between the group to disperse them; pulling Kaminari away from you to force him to let go of your hand “You should all be getting ready to leave, as you said you would!”

“Oh come on man! We just wanted to say hi to her!” Kaminari whined as he, and the rest of the group, were huddled towards to back of the place while you stood in place, fighting off a wave of giggles that were threatening to overcome you over the whole scene.

After a moment Sero returned, smoothing out his shirt as he tries his best to act as nonchalantly as possible; an act you could see right through given the blush that was dusting his cheeks but decided not to comment on.

“Sorry about all that, you ready to get started?” He asked, hand running through his hair nervously.

You hum in agreement, head nodding as you let him guide you back to his station; once there he motioned for you to get comfortable on the plush leather chair as he got his equipment ready.

 “Your friends are really nice,” You commented, tugging up the sleeve of your shirt for ease of access.

“Yeah, they are” Sero admitted, chuckling to himself “Pains in the ass half the time, but they mean well”

“Well, that’s how you know they love you” You chimed, sitting more upright as you watched him press an alcohol swab against your skin for a moment

“Guess you’re right.” He shrugged, holding up the stencil of your tattoo next to your arm “You want the tattoo here or a little lower?”

“No, there looks good! After all, you are the expert” You smiled, allowing him to press the paper against your skin; feeling him pressing down on it, before removing it to showcase the temporary art that was to forever be marked on your skin.

“Yeah that looks good,” He murmured, taking his tattoo machine in hand and dipping it in ink “Now, you let me know if this hurts, or becomes too unbearable okay?”

“Okay..” You bit your lip and nodded your head as you stared at the machine.

“Don’t worry, on arms you normally can’t feel anything” Sero reassured “ and I’ve got a steady hand which helps. All this just looks more scary than it is.”

“Like Kirishima”

“Yeah!” He laughed, shaking his head at your silly, but accurate, comment “Just like Kiri. Now, take a deep breath for me, kay?”

You nodded and did as you were told, taking a deep breath as his machine whirled to life; you watched with bated breath as it approached your skin, letting out a large sigh of relief when it finally touched you and no pain could be felt.

“See? Not so bad, yeah?” Sero smiled, slowly beginning to outline his design.

“Yeah…”

You didn’t converse much after that, not because you didn’t want to, but rather because you were blown away by Sero’s skills and concentration. You had never seen this side of him before. Normally he was goofy, animated, and fun, which you thought was endearing and cute; gave him his boyish charm. But now? As you watched his brows furrow and eyes look at you with such steely focus, you couldn’t help but find him extremely attractive. Choosing not to break the silence in fear of breaking his concentration, and thus this newfound allure, or embarrassing yourself.

Though he did make it difficult.

Throughout the entire session, every time he needed to shade something or thicken a line, he would always praise you after; claiming you were doing ‘such a good job’ for pushing through it; or for being called a ‘good girl’ when you took a needed deep breath at the right moment in time.

He said it so often that you can’t tell if he’s being reassuring or doing it to get a rise out of you; to tease you to see you get all hot and bothered.

Whatever the case was, it was affecting you way more than it should have; lighting a small fire deep within your core as you tried to rub your thighs together without him noticing to relieve some of the newfound pressure, as you suppressed all the small squeaks your wanted body wanted to let out every time another praise left his mouth.

It was agonizing torture in the best possible way; and when the session was finally done, when he was gently placing cellophane wrap over your fresh tattoo, you weren’t sure whether you were relieved or disappointed that it was all over.

“How much…” You gently cleared your throat, voice a little raspy over underuse “How much do I owe you again?”

“I already told you, babe,” Sero chuckled, carefully putting away his equipment “It’s on the house, my treat for you allowing me to borrow all those books.”

“You paid for those, Sero” You shot back, legs moving over the side of the chair as you leaned closer to him; showcasing your cleavage further from the lowcut hem of your shirt “I can’t just let you give me something like this for free - it’s not fair.”

“I told you, I like doing this.” He shrugged, ignoring you and your subsequent subtle attempts of seduction “More than happy to do this for you, think of it as a first-timer bonus!”

“There must be some way I can pay you back”

It was your tone that made Sero’s back straighten, clearing his throat he carefully placed what was in his hand down to turn and face you - breathing ceasing when he saw you sitting so pretty for him; the dark look in your eye making this cock twitch to life in his pants.

Sero couldn’t help it when his tongue poked out to lick his lips, unable to stop his eyes from trailing over your figure sitting before him; his own legs spreading further apart as he shifted a little closer to you; making you bite your lip. 

“How about finally going on that date with me?” He offered, hands twitching in his lap as he tried his best to restrain himself from touching you without permission.

“Payments happen immediately after a service…it wouldn’t be right paying you back days later, especially after you did such an amazing job” You reasoned, your voice barely above a whisper as you tilted your head up; brushing your nose against his “I prefer to pay you back now, kay?”

“Kay…” Sero barely even had the chance to whisper the word out before your lips pressed firmly into his; hands fisting into his shirt to keep him from pulling away.

As if Sero even wanted to move away, his own hands reaching out to pull you closer to him; closing any inch of space between him and your soft body. His hand cupped your face to deepen the long-awaited kiss that he dreamed about for weeks, as he slotted between your legs, groping and pinching the meat of your thigh as he hiked your leg up to wrap around his waist as he placed more of his weight onto you; groaning into your open when your clothed cunt brushed against his hardening length.

Your sweet, breathless, mewls were addicting and it made his mind dizzy with lust as his lips descended down your jaw and onto your neck; licking and sucking on the sensitive skin you so graciously barred to him, biting down on your pulse to hear you cry out his name into the heated air as he continued to grind his hips against yours.

His kisses continued downwards to your chest, pulling your shirt down - not bothering or wanting to take a mere moment to part from you to properly rid yourself of the article of clothing - before his lips began to suckle at the plump flesh his found; moaning into the heated flesh as he relished the way your hand began to tangle and tug at his hair.

It was all so much, and yet not enough for you; the fire that slowly emerged in your core was raging for me, not being fully satisfied with his sweet kisses or the grind of his hips. You needed more, been craving for more for hours, and you were starting to get a little impatient as you guided the hand pinching and stroking your thigh up to your core.

“Sero, please, touch me more,” You sighed out, legs widening to give him better access as held his hand against the damp cotton of your panties

“Hanta,” He corrected you, wringing his hand from your grasp to slowly stroke his knuckle up and down your slit “call me that, and I’ll do what you want, you needly little thing.”

“Hanta, please? Want you…” You whined, arching your back in an attempt to get more friction; unable to keep the smile off your face when you heard him groaning; clearly loving the way his name sounded off your needy tongue.

“That’s a good girl, hips up” He gently coaxed your lower half off the chair to pull your panties down your leg; pocketing them for later, before slowly guiding your legs to spead even wider for him “Already so wet after a few kisses, hm?” 

You looked away, face buried into his neck, the heat burning your cheeks in embarrassment over his teasing, as you nodded your head - unable to muster the courage to say the truth - as your heart fluttered over his rumbling chuckle.

“Aw, are we shy now?” He teased even more, deft fingers spreading your lower lips apart to gently stroke at your hardened clit “You weren’t shy a second ago when you asked me to play with this pretty pussy, want me to stop?”

He felt you shake your head, a sweet little whine accompanying the motion, as you continued to cling to him; your warm breath, coming out in pants, next to his ear made him slow his pace to one that could barely be considered movement.

“I dunno, it sure seems like you do” 

“N-no!” You mumbled, gripping his shirt tighter; biting your lip to suppress another whine threatening to escape. “Please don’t stop..”

“Then let me see that pretty face, hm,” He asked, tone still mirthful as he watched you slowly come out of your hiding spot “There you are, look at you, huh? All cute and flustered, you like what I’m doing that much?”

You nodded your head, once more, voice squeaking out a ‘yes’ as you felt his fingers resume a faster pace - swirling your bundle of nerves before slipping into your wet heat; your own hand coming down to grasp his forearm over the sudden intensity.

“That feels good, baby? You like my fingers?” Sero hummed, lips grazing your ear as he leaned closer to you, gazing down to watch his fingers go in and out of your drenched hole.

“God yes, Hanta!” You couldn’t help but cry out, throwing your head back, as you felt his fingers curl; stroking that sweet spot within your gummy walls that you made you see stars.

“Yeah you do,” He groaned, feeling your slick drip down his wrist as he repeated the motion “you wanted this, didn’t you? That’s why you wore that cute little skirt, huh?”

Sero watched you nod your head, though the blissed-out look on your face made him question if you even heard what he said as your hips began to wiggle, legs shaking as you neared your release.

“Can feel you twitching around my fingers, pretty girl, you gonna cum for me?” He asked, as his free hand pushed down your squirming hips “Hey, hey, don’t whine! I’ll give you what you want, promise”

His swollen lips brushed against your collarbone, a subtle gesture to prove he meant what he said - that he wasn’t going to tease you or stop you from going over the edge; his thumb twisting up to rub at your clit to help ease you over the edge you were climbing.

“That’s it, cum for me, god you sound so pretty, keep twitching for me.” He groaned, fingers working frantically as your cries grew higher in pitch.

Everything went white for a moment, an end to the mounting pleasure he was giving you, the world was forgotten for a brief moment as you succumbed to the pleasure; your back arched almost painfully as your legs clamped around his wrist; your entire form shaking from the intensity as eyes rolled back into your skull. The only thing that kept you in the realm was his deep voice cooing down at you as you felt your juices run down your thighs and stick to the surface of his leather chair.

“There she is…” He mumbled, lips kissing all over your face and chest to slowly help ease you back down “Slowly, that’s it, you did so good for me…”

“Hanta, s’too much!” You whined, bucking your hips away from his still-moving fingers; ones that were still slowly stroking your soaking cunt; hissing when he finally took them out.

“Sorry, sorry,” He chuckled, hands returning to stroke your thighs and hips as he gazed down at you “You certainly know how to stroke a man’s ego, huh? Never had a girl do that from my touch.”

You groaned one that turned into a giggle, as your hands came up to your face to hide from another wave of heated embarrassment “Well, to be fair, never had a guy touch me like that. Can’t blame a girl for enjoying it!”

“No I can’t, glad you liked it so much, baby” He murmured, pulling your hands from your face to kiss you once more, murmuring sweet nothing to you between each small kiss as his hands wandered again, up and down your body, smiling into the kiss when he felt your hands do the same.

“A-ah!” Sero moaned, unable to stop his hips from bucking to your small hand that started to stroke at the large bulge in his pants; another one choking out, ending in a whimper, when you applied more pressure.

“Can I return the favour?” You asked, voice sounding so saccharine and confident that it made his head spin at the total 180 you just pulled with your demeanor.

“N-no,” He whimpered out, hand grasping at your wrist - just as yours did before - to stop you from continuing your sinful motions.

“Why not?” You whined, the pout you gave almost made him regret his choice, “Wanna make you feel good…”

“I know you do, but I won’t be able to last long if you keep that up” He reasoned, clasping your hands in his to bring them away from his twitching, aching cock.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“God, you’re too much…” He mumbled, head shaking in amusement as he cleared his throat, trying his best not to let you get the best of him as he watched you squirm.

Your pout was still prevalent on your swollen lips as you gazed up at him, calling out to him once more in that saccharine sweet voice “But I wanna make you cum.”

Sero couldn’t help but groan again, head turning away from you as he thought of anything else at that moment - things that made him cringe in his past - to try and stop himself from creaming in his pants like a teenager. With his voice strained, hoarse with effort, as he instructed you to lay back.

You do as you are told, heat in your belly igniting once more when you hear the clinking of his belt unbuckling; bending your legs up, to get betting frictions on your tingling nub, as you waited as patiently as you could for his return.

The chair groaned, squeaking slightly, at the added weight Sero provided, as he situated himself between your legs once more. You gasped, one that turned into a moan, when you felt his cock head tap at your entrance; his hard length sliding up and down your slit - teasing you as he coats himself in your juices.

“Hanta…!” You groan out, hips bucking to try and slip him inside; groaning once more in frustration when you feel his hands pin your hips down once more “Hurry up!”

“So impatient, naughty, naughty, naughty ” He clicks his tongue at you, chuckling at the frustrated glance you cast his way “Just give me a second, don’t wanna hurt you after all”

You huff, brows furrowing further as acquiesced; knowing thing it was for the better to have him take things slow - but the burning in your core was making it difficult for you to have a clear and level head; wanting nothing more to feel him fill you up.

After another agonizing minute, you slowly feel him sink into your heat; feeling his fat cock stretch you out so agonizingly slow that it makes you throw your head back and moan; mouth agape as you feel every inch bury itself deeper into your core.

“God, you’re tight!” Sero hisses, body taut as he holds himself above you as he continued pushing into you “Already milking me, baby, damn!”

You both groan when he finally bottoms out, breathing labored as they mingle together in-between tiny kisses as you both try to adjust; legs wrapping around his hips, pulling him down to you, as he begins his slowly thrusting into you.

His thrusts were almost teasing with how slowly he was moving, dragging his cock out languidly from your gummy walls before slowly returning back into your warmth - but they were precise, with each thrust hitting every sweet spot you had; making your eyes cross as you fell into the throws of pleasure over his slow lovemaking.

Over time though, Sero could not keep up the unhurried pace; what was once a tactic to ensure that he didn’t cum too early, to properly worship you and your perfect body, was now not enough - his body needed more. His lips attached to yours, kisses muffling the sweet moans that you were making as he slowly picks up his pace; thrusts turning sloppy and hurried, a fair cry from before, as Sero now becomes unable to hold off his own pleasure; frantically trying to chase his release.

The sloppy, wet, noises of your pussy could be heard over your constant moans, over the  sound of his skin slapping against yours, and it was becoming overwhelming - his thumb joining his frenzied hips as he rubbed at your clit; trying desperately to get you up and over that edge before him, to feel your walls flutter and clasp his weeping cock as it did his fingers before he spilled into you.

But he failed, your wanton moans as they called out his name, and the sharp sting of your nails and they dug into his back pushed him too far; quickly pulling out with a choked wail he came; spilling his hot seed all over your thighs and stomach.

“I-I’m sorry” he gasped, trying to regain his breath - body, and cock, still twitching over the intensity of his organism; leaving you for a brief moment to get a clean rag from his equipment table to clean you up.

“Why are you sorry?” You asked, voice still raspy and sore, as you watched him methodically clean you up.

“Well, you know, about getting you all messy. And…. yeah…” He mumbled, shrugging his shoulders, too embarrassed to look at you or saw the real reason he apologized.

It made you smile, though you did your best to contain the giggles that threaten to pass your lips as you watched him. Sitting up, you pushed the hand that was cleaning you away, pulling him back down into you for a kiss.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind getting messy. Part of the fun, right?” You giggled, nudging your nose with his trying to lighten the mood; effectively making a small smile tug at his lips as he returned your kiss.

“Besides…” you whispered, hands coming down to teasingly stroke his chest “My place isn’t too far from here. If you wanted, you could spend all night making it up to me”

“Aren’t you a naughty girl,” Sero smirked, hands grabbing the meat under your thighs as he picked you up from his chair; moving your legs to wrap around his hips to keep you upright and in place “But, I think my place is closer.”

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #sero hanta x reader #sero x reader #bnha sero #mha sero #bnha oneshots #mha oneshot #sero x you #bnha smut #mha smut #sero hanta smut #sero smut #🔮.the peddler brews #🔮.potion for sero

[familyvideostevie]

a kind of hunger | chapter 1

joel miller x fem!reader

series masterlist

joel miller walks into your life just as it starts to fall apart. surely some hot nights with the bar's newest regular can't hurt, right?

length: 9.2k

warnings: 18+, mdni, smut, fem!reader, unspecified age gap, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), doggy style, missionary, slightly painful sex, dirty talk, size kink if you squint, joel is a liiiiiiiitle mean if you squint, general feelings of loneliness and angst from r in her free time

a/n: huge thank you to @strangerfreaks without whom this would never have gotten off the ground. also to all the joel writers on this site, i love you, i am in awe of you. please allow me to give it a go myself <3

navigation | 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | 𝗴𝘂𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀

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The first time you sleep with Joel Miller you know it won't be the last. 

But that's not where this story starts. 

It starts in a bar. Nothing special about it, really. Staffed half by college kids who come and go, half by drifters who, for some reason, stopped drifting once they found this dimly lit, sticky-floored hole in the wall. Not quite a local institution but not forgettable, never totally empty. It's got pool tables and a jukebox but also clean bathrooms aside from the graffiti and two new-ish TVs showing whatever the first guy who gets there wants to watch.

Point is, you work there. One of those drifters who stopped drifting. The guy who owns it, some crotchety old fuck called Bill, rents you the apartment above the bar for a decent price considering it's loud until 2am on the weekends and midnight all the other days. Loud enough that even on nights you don't work it feels like you're there anyway. But you get used to it. It's called Frank's, which you don't totally understand, but you're not about to ask questions of the guy who has finally allowed you to slow down and take a breath who is also your boss and landlord.

You've worked there long enough to have learned the names and orders of all the regulars who've been coming in since long before you walked through the door and to have seen some new regulars enter the rotation. In truth, you've worked there long enough to basically be running the place. It's still the bar in your head, not your bar because getting attached will do you no good. This is how it always goes: you care too much but it never seems like anyone cares back. You cut and run before you can be disappointed and you’ve already been here longer than you’d expected to be because it’s something close to comfortable. 

Almost no one messes with you despite being younger than most of the clientele and on the off chance some frat boy from the city decides to take a cheap shot you've got a small army of imposing customers on your side. Between them and your coworkers, it's almost like you're not alone. 

Almost.

The hours you spend away from the bar are spent alone. You don't have many numbers in your phone and the ones you do you don't call. You go on drives in the shitty truck you bought off some guy when you moved here. You browse used bookstores and suffer the heat of the day on long walks and wonder if this is all there is. You think of what it might be like to feel something other than rootless.

One thing that helps is…sex. Being close to someone for even a little while, letting yourself be seen in a way that doesn’t require you to totally show your hand. You try not to make a habit of actually fucking your clientele. It can get messy quickly, guys coming in and expecting more than a good pour. Being offended when you don't give them a free round, don't make eyes at them over the oiled wood. It's easier to be alone, that much you've learned. It's easier and it's simpler and it means you've only got yourself to blame for the hurt you sometimes feel laying in bed, staring at the ceiling as some rock song thrums up through the floor. 

And if you do fuck someone from the bar, you keep it simple. You do, however, try really hard not to sleep with regulars. And no staying over. A classic, unspoken rule of sleeping with strangers that you rarely verbalize but make sure to enforce every time. It keeps things neat. The last thing you need is mess. Who knows how long you'll stay in this town, in this little apartment and this shitty bar. You've got a lot of years left, a lot of years you should probably spend in classrooms or an office or falling in love with some nice guy with a nice family who can give you a nice life. 

But you're here. 

And then, one day, so is Joel.

Being a good bartender is memorization, paying attention, and keeping a level head. You know how to make pretty much any drink even though your regulars are mostly the simple beer or Jack and Coke kind of people. You swear you can tell when a glass is going to fall a second before it shatters, spot a punch before it can be thrown. So you notice when a man you've never seen before walks through the door.

You notice how the energy of the room changes, how multiple pairs of eyes follow him as he settles at the end of the half-full bar. Dark hair shot through with grey, green shirt rolled up over chorded forearms that he rests on the wood. It feels like you should know him but you don't. You've never seen him before.

You finish pouring beers for some giggly girls before making your way over to him. His eyes track you.

You wonder what he'll order. A shot, maybe, based on the tense line of his shoulders. Or a dark beer. Maybe something strong. You hope he won't be one of those guys you have to peel off the bar in a few hours. "Can I get you something?"

"Whiskey, rocks," he says. You can hear the Texas drawl even from so few words. Deep, low, measured. "Cheapest you got."

For some reason, it feels like he's returning and you're the new one. "Wanna start a tab?"

"I'll do cash at the end," he says. Ah, one of those. Guy getting away from his wife, maybe. Tough day at work. Doesn't want to leave tracks. You can relate to that.

"Joel fuckin’ Miller," one of your regulars says as you turn to grab a glass. He claps the man -- Joel -- on the shoulder. "Heard you were back up this way," he says. "Good to see you, man."

Joel simply inclines his head once like he's not thrilled to be recognized. The dismissal is clear. And, weirdest of all, it works. You've seen insults hurled between friends for less.

You set his drink down, the amber liquid sloshing around the ice. 

"Thanks," he mutters. The dismissal is...less clear, but you've got other customers to tend to. And Joel doesn't seem particularly chatty.

Your eyes return to him for the next hour or so but he never waves you over for another round. Heat trails up and down your spine and you have to tell yourself that he's not watching you. That would be too optimistic, right? At one point you take a bathroom break and when you're back he's gone, wrinkled bills stacked under the glass. Enough for his drink and a decent tip. 

Joel comes in three more times over the next month before you sleep with him. Each time he orders the same drink, leaves the same tip. He sits alone at the bar, occasionally saying hello when someone approaches but no one ever sits next to him. He's gruff but only ever polite to you, doesn't get impatient when it takes you a minute to get to him. 

And he's really something to look at. The tick in his jaw, the veins in his neck. His skin is tanned, dotted with small scars that must come from a lifetime of hard work. He wears a watch and jeans that hug his ass in an almost indecent way, a way that has you watching him when he's not on a stool. Sometimes you catch him smirking to himself when there's some shit going on at the bar, gossip or people being loud for no reason. You wonder what his laugh sounds like and scold yourself for it. No harm in looking but there's the possibility of harm in thinking too much. You know better.

The third time he comes in is a bad night. It's busy for some reason and everyone is a fucking asshole. You weren't even supposed to work tonight but one of the seasonal kids had banged on your door begging you to come help, promising you all the tips for tonight if you did. You knew it would make you look good to Bill and despite yourself, you didn’t want to leave them hanging, so here you are, sweaty and pissed and smelling like beer, doing your best to empty the dishwasher in between drink orders and praying the keg doesn't need changing. 

You don't even notice when Joel comes in, only spotting him once he's managed to scare some college kid from a seat at the bar. For some reason, his presence makes you a little calmer in the chaos. 

"Be with you in a sec, Joel," you say to him when you're near. You don't call him by his name since he never actually introduced himself to you but it slips out in the rush. His nostrils flare but you don't have time to linger on it even as you feel the hot weight of his gaze. 

"No rush."

You manage to get him what you know by now to be his usual only to be called over by your least favorite customer of the night as soon as he's thanked you. 

"Honey," the asshole says. This fucker's name is Seth and he's a pain in your ass. "Gimme another, will you? Make it a heavy pour." This would be his fifth and he's already slurring his words. 

"Don't think so," you tell him firmly. "I'm cutting you off for tonight, Seth." He's liable to start some shit or at the very least throw up on the floor and you don't want to deal with either. You don't have time to deal with either. 

His bloodshot eyes narrow and he slams a fist on the bar. You manage not to flinch, though pretty much everyone else does. "That's not good fucking service, sweetcheeks," he leers. 

"Good thing I don't give a fuck," you snap. "Get the fuck out of here before you do something you regret, sweetcheeks.” The venom in your tone seems to surprise him before sheer rage takes over. You've thrown out plenty of assholes in your time here but it's not always a smooth experience.

Seth leans forward over the bar, reaches for you -- to do what, you have no idea -- and you prepare yourself to yell for backup and then kick him out for good and maybe get a punch in as he goes. His fingers manage to hook in your shirtsleeve before a hand closes around his wrist.

Before Seth can scream he's got his outstretched arm behind his back, face twisted in pain. Behind him is --

Joel?

The bar is almost silent. You can hear a few whispers over the blood pumping in your ears. 

"I'd get out of here if I were you," Joel hisses. He glances at you, jaw tight and eyes narrowed. Are you okay? he seems to be asking. You nod. 

Seth whimpers. "Let me go," he says weakly. 

"Just gonna show you the door." Joel all but drags him through the parting crowd. 

"Jesus," someone says behind you. One of the seasonal kids. "You okay?"

"I'm taking my break." You leave the kid behind the bar to fend for himself and barrel into the back and through the side door into the alley where you always take your 15. It's one of those weird cold fall nights, just the wrong side of chilly to be here without a jacket but you left it in the bar office.

The milk carton you sit on has been turned over so you kick it back with a thud and slump down onto it. The light above the door flickers. "This shit is getting old," you say to no one. You kick aside cigarette butts that aren't yours and wonder how long you can do this. What would be next, anyway? You've got a laundry list of failed dreams and no one wondering if you're going to make something of yourself. Long nights at a bar you care about more than you should and rowdy customers and handsome men who barely say a word to you can't last forever, can it? Would anyone here even notice if you left?

The door flies open, startling you out of your thoughts. 

Joel steps into the alley. Somehow he manages to yet again look like he was meant to be here and you're the one who is out of place. You blink at him and he stares back like he wasn't sure he'd find you here.

"Got lost?" you ask. "Pretty sure you know where the front door is."

He lets the metal door swing shut and crosses his arms. "Was lookin' for you."

That catches you by surprise. "Why?"

Joel shrugs, a small lift of his shoulders. His expression doesn't budge. "Sorry for makin' trouble."

Oh, right. Seth. You wave him off. "Just another night," you say. "I'd have handled it." You stand from the crate and lean against the brick wall. It's true. Seth isn't the first asshole you've handled.

"I bet you would've," Joel mutters. He takes one step closer. You're reminded all at once how good-looking he is, how you've wondered what his hands would feel like on your skin. There's no way he's ever thought of you, right? You're just some girl who pours him drinks, too young and too forgettable. He was just having a man moment, wanting to save the day or some shit like that. 

"I don't have a cigarette or anything if you want to smoke," you say. This close he doesn't smell like tobacco but you don't know what else to say. "Sorry."

"So you just sit in alleys on your break for fun?"

"I like this alley," you say, suddenly a bit defensive. "It's a nice alley." You take a step towards him. He uncrosses his arms and his hands flex at his sides. You shiver. "No one bothers me out here."

Joel tilts his head to the side. "That so?" His eyes are dark under the dim light. When did he get so close? When did your face get so hot?

"Except guys who drink whiskey on the rocks, I guess," you say. It comes out much softer than you'd like, your voice cracking. The air doesn't have the same bite as it did seconds ago. Joel's expression hovers between something you recognize and something you don't, something you desperately want to figure out. "Good thing I don't mind." The adrenaline from the small altercation hasn't left and the swirl of emotions about your whole shitty life has you on edge, has you wanting to play with fire.

You're so close now that you can feel his breath on your face, feel the heat of him in the still night. Joel's eyes rake over your face, looking for something, something you try very hard to show him so that he might fucking do it, meet the want that is suddenly uncontrollable halfway, or at least tell you if he's not interested so you can --

Your name is a groan in his throat and then he's kissing you. His palm cups the back of your head as he presses you into the wall, his other hand firm on your hip, fingertips pressing into your skin through your shirt hard enough to bruise. He tastes like the whiskey you served him. You fist one hand in his collar and wind the other into his hair.

Joel controls the kiss but you give as good as you get. He licks into your mouth and you suck on his lower lip. His beard rubs against your face in a delicious burn and when you tug on his hair he makes a noise you must hear again. The brick behind you scrapes a bit but you hardly notice when he presses against you, slides a thigh between your legs and you feel him hard through his jeans. 

"S'not right, you lookin' so good yellin' at that asshole," he grumbles into your neck, teeth nipping at your pulse. You cant your hips and he hisses.

"Speak for yourself," you manage. "Always got your eyes on me, don't you?" It feels like a risk to call him on it. Control of the situation is slipping from your grasp, this man who you never thought would actually touch you now holding you in his arms, his lips on your skin. He pulls back from your neck and smirks, eyes dark. 

"'Spose I do." 

You can work with that. You surge forward to kiss him again and this time he lets you call the shots while still meeting your bruising caresses with his own.

"Joel." You tug on his hair.

He makes that noise again.

It might be five minutes, it might be an hour. You have no idea. All you know is you can still feel his cock through the denim and you're so turned on you might combust in this alley. Or at the very least let him fuck you in it.

"I don't close tonight," you pant. One of Joel's hands has worked its way into your back pocket and the other has rucked up your shirt to rest on your bare back. 

"What?" he growls.

"My shift. I'm off at 11." You tap his watch. He glances at it and sees it read 10:30. "Half hour. I live upstairs."

For a second you think he'll say no. Walk away with a nod of his head and out of your life forever. Wouldn't be the first, wouldn't be the last. You're already breaking one of your rules by even considering sleeping with him but there's just something about him. The way he looks at you, the way his hands feel on your skin. You want to know what he'll feel like inside you. Maybe you’re still in this town because you were waiting for him to walk through the door.

"Alright," he says. He clears his throat and releases you. You fuss with your hair and straighten your shirt and he adjusts himself in his jeans. "Half hour." His dark eyes narrow as he glances down the alley back towards the street. 

"Take a walk around the block or something," you tell him, swallowing the urge to laugh at him so handsome and disheveled from your hands. Never in a million years would you have predicted that tonight would go this way. "My door is on the other side of the building. I'll let you up."

The urge to flatten the damage your hands did to his hair is so overwhelming for a second that you step away from him towards the door. His eyes follow you, expression unreadable. How many nights would it take for you to know what he's thinking? Careful, you think, or you'll be tempted to find out. 

Joel watches you until you give him a little wave and slip back into the bar. The metal door clangs shut behind you and you lean against it, knees still wobbly. Is this actually happening? Are you really this overwhelmed by making out with some guy in an alley? You check the clock on the wall and curse. Your break ended ten minutes ago though since no one came looking for you it's probably no big deal. Being mostly in charge has its perks.

The bar is a little less crowded than when you left so you grab a rag and start wiping down the bar. Joel's seat is empty, his glass gone. 

"Oh, hey," the seasonal kid says. "That guy, uh, Joel? He said to make sure you get this." He pulls out Joel's usual tip from his apron and holds it out to you.

Considering you're planning to go upstairs and fuck him until you can't walk, you don't feel like taking his tip tonight. "It's yours," you say. "Thanks for handling everything while I was out back." The kid blinks at you but knows better than to refuse, pocketing the cash and going back to loading the dishwasher. 

You finish your shift. Your blood feels electric, your skin hot. Can anyone in this bar tell what happened in the alley? You haven't felt this way about a hookup in ages. Like you were wanted, not just convenient. It's just one night, right? Maybe he'll never come to the bar again, which makes your chest tighten for a second. Maybe you're about to ruin something you don't totally understand. But you haven't gotten this far in life by worrying about shit like that, so you clock out and wave goodbye and make your way to the other side of the building. 

Joel isn't there. You unlock the door to the stairwell so you can at least wait for him inside when you hear footsteps, the crunch of gravel under boots. You fist your key between your knuckles just in case but before you can turn around you hear your name in that Texas drawl. 

"Just me," he says. You don't know if Joel Miller is capable of looking nervous but this is probably close. He shifts from one foot to the other, hands in his pockets. A thrill runs up your spine. Are you really doing this? Are you really about to bring this man up to your apartment and hope to god he does whatever you want to you? 

"Come on up." Yes. Yes, you are. You give him a smile and he follows you up to the landing. 

"S'loud," he mutters once you shut the door. The bar's music wasn't that loud when you were in it and up here it's a dull hum, people's voices and laughter slipping through the cracks like a TV left on a little too high in the other room. These days it's background noise to you but you figure Joel lives in a house somewhere with lots of land and open windows and silence. He seems like the type to like silence. 

Jacket on the hook, shoes clumsily thrown on the mat, keys in the dish. Your normal routine except there’s a man in your living room, too. He looks around the space, hands still in his pockets. You try not to be self-conscious about your place. It's small, sure, the bedroom visible through the currently open French doors in the small living room. Your kitchen is tiny, bathroom tinier, but it's all yours. "You get used to it," you say. "I hardly mind it anymore."

"Didn't say I did," he says. You both stand there for a few moments before Joel takes two big steps and crowds you against the door, one hand on your hip and the other next to your head. "Means they won't hear us." You swallow a gasp as he drags his nose along the curve of your jaw, breath hot on your skin. You were going to ask him if you could shower first since you undoubtedly smell like sweat and beer but clearly, he doesn't mind. His tongue darts out and he sucks on your pulse point, your own hands clutching desperately at his shirt. If he moves you're sure you'll melt into a puddle on the floor. "Means you can be as loud as you want," he growls. "That sound good?"

Any breath remaining in your body rushes out and you jerk your hips to make contact with the hardness in his jeans. "Yeah," you gasp. You can feel something like a smile against your neck. "That sounds good."

It's a dynamic you don't mind stepping into -- whatever this is. Every second of your life you feel like you're waiting for the other shoe to drop, for everyone around you to get tired. Your eyes are always on the exit, always wondering where you'll go next, what you'll leave behind this time. Even when you're fucking strangers you're always wondering how you'll get them to leave. You’re better off alone. But right here, right now, with Joel's heavy scent of sawdust and whiskey and something earthy, something grounding, in your nostrils, his hands and his mouth on you, nothing else matters. Your brain shuts off and you're just here.

You grab Joel's jaw and guide his lips back to yours. He allows it and you moan deep in your throat as he tongues back into your mouth, your own trying to give as good as you're getting. He pops the button on your jeans and you help him with frantic hands, shoving them down your hips along with your underwear so he can ghost his fingers through your coarse curls. He pulls back from the kiss to watch as he drags two fingers through your folds. Your eyes lock and he smirks as your lids flutter.

"Soaked," is all he says. You tip your head forward and rest your forehead on his shoulder.

"Don't be smug."

He huffs. "I ain't trying to sound like an asshole, but --"

"Already failed." He nips at your earlobe.

"Gotta work you open a bit, sweetheart," he says. His fingers circle your clit once, ever so slowly. Your grip on his bicep tightens and you wonder if you'll leave bruises. You hope so. "Gonna be a tight fit."

"Heard -- fuck -- that before," you gasp. Joel really fucking knows what he's doing. "I -- bed?"

"Smart girl," he says. You're pretty sure you get wetter. He pulls his fingers free but keeps a hold on your hip like he knows your knees are jelly. "Sit on the edge." 

You leave your jeans and underwear behind and make your way to the bed through the French doors, sitting heavily on the quilt, knees bent and leaning on your hands behind you. Before you can say another word, Joel lowers to his knees between yours. He pries them apart even further and runs his hands up and down your thighs. 

For a few seconds, you can't find the words. This man, older than you and impossibly handsome, face lined with years he's lived and hands callused with work he's done, this man that you hardly know anything about but can't get out of your mind, is on his knees before you.

"You gonna be okay down there?" is what you come up with.

"You always talk this much?" he mutters, though his mouth tugs up at the corner. Joel's forearms wrap around your legs and he tugs. You fall flat on your back in surprise and your ass almost hangs off the bed. He draws one of your legs over his shoulder and kneads the flesh of your thigh, eyes dark and jaw twitching as he spreads you open and just looks. "Might have to help me up but I think I'll be just fine."

"Joel --" 

The end of his name becomes a high-pitched moan when he leans in and buries his face in your cunt. He drags his tongue up and down through your folds, nose catching your clit in a way that makes you squirm. His beard scrapes against your skin deliciously, leaving a sting that you know you'll be able to see evidence of when he's done. He laps at you before finally taking your clit in his mouth and sucking like his life depends on it. It's only his hand on your outstretched thigh keeping you from suffocating him between your legs, though you're not sure he'd mind.

"Should be a crime," he says. You look down the length of your body at him. His chin is wet with you, eyes meeting yours when he feels your stare. "Cunt this pretty tastin' so good."

How do you reply to that?

He's back at it before you can even try. Joel gets messy with it, the sounds of his attention loud and filthy. He tells you how wet you are, how good you taste, and your eyes flutter shut again.

"How're we doing?" 

"Don't stop," you manage. "Just, don't stop--"

He prods your entrance with one finger. "Reckon you can take it, hmm? You're so wet it'll be easy." There's a bite to his tone, a sense of amusement mixed with awe like he can hardly believe it either. 

"Two," you gasp. "I can take two." You need two, in fact. His hands are one of the few parts of him you've been able to study and you know his fingers are long, much thicker than yours and you need them to fill you up, need them to stretch you out. You need something to clench around because right now you feel like you're on the edge of the pleasure building in your core and if you don't get a release soon you'll just…just…combust. 

Joel hums but you feel a second finger nudge into you. He slides them in and curls them as he goes. Your back arches off the bed.

"Dunno," he coos. "Pretty tight, sweetheart." The slight meanness to his words is in complete contrast with the gentle, attentive way he handles you. Who knew he'd be such a fucking tease.

"Well get to work, then." He scissors the digits inside of you in reply and returns to sucking on your clit. You reach down and bury your hand in his silver-streaked hair, tugging a bit harder than you intend to. Joel just moans into your cunt, the vibration making it feel like your very pelvis is rattling as he continues to fuck you with his fingers. 

Sweat beads on your brow as you try to hold on. He picks up the pace and presses into your walls with his fingertips like he's looking for something. His tongue wreaks havoc on the rest of you, sucking bruises into your inner thighs when he's not abusing your clit. If this is just the foreplay you don't know how you'll survive actually fucking him. And he hasn't even asked you to touch him, hasn't shown even a hint of expectation. He's doing this to get you ready but based on the blown state of his pupils he's enjoying it almost as much as you are. 

"Getting close?" he asks, breath ragged. Your skin is starting to feel deliciously raw from his beard and the hook in your belly is pulling tighter and tighter. 

"Yes -- fuck -- I'm close, Joel, keep --"

His hand moves faster than before and he latches back onto your clit. Your legs start to shake and you feel your orgasm coming, it's just right there, you just need him to --

His fingers find the spot he must have been looking for and your only warning is a sharp tug on his hair and then your back arches and you come all over his face. He fingers fucks you through it and you feel it as your walls clench around him, your mouth open in a high whine as your muscles finally relax and you flop back onto the bed. Joel keeps his face in your cunt, gently lapping at your release while avoiding your sensitive clit. You push his hair back from his face and try to get your breathing under control.

He manages to get up on his own with a grunt as you pant on the bed. "Okay?" he asks. "Lookin' a little tired." You show him your middle finger and he...laughs, lips shiny with your slick. So he can laugh. 

"Are you going to keep your clothes on?" you ask him. His eyes travel slowly over your bare bottom half, the redness of your thighs from his beard and the way your shirt has rucked up to the wire of your bra. 

"Nah." He sits heavily on the edge of the bed to take off his boots and socks. You want to ask him if you can undress him, slowly peel off his layers button by button and explore every inch of him but you won't be able to take it if he says no so you just watch. Already you know you'll be thinking about this night for a long fucking time. The way it seems like he cares about how you're feeling, how he wants to take his time with you, how he enjoys your pleasure. It's nice. It's...making you feel wanted.

His denim button-up is tossed on the floor and he stands, shirtless, to undo his belt. The forearms and small triangle at his throat that you've been treated with thus far when he sits at the bar in no way prepared you for the rest of him. Broad shoulders, thick, muscled arms from years of hard work. Graying chest hair that travels all the way down the slight softness of his belly and in a darker trail his jeans. Your mouth waters. 

"You're starin'," he says softly before unzipping his fly and pushing his jeans and boxers down in one motion. 

"Taste of your own medicine." The words come out with much less bite than you intended as his cock springs free. 

Well, he wasn't lying. He is big. You knew he would be based on what you felt through his pants, but seeing it is something else. 

You sit up and scoot to the end of the bed to be closer. Is he really going to fit? He's bigger than anyone you've fucked before, that's for sure. A ruddy color, a little darker than his tanned chest, the tip a little lighter and already leaking. A few veins run the length of him and the hair at the base of his shaft is clearly taken care of though a little wild and a shade of deep brown that hasn't grayed much yet. His balls hang heavy, one slightly bigger than the other. He twitches under your gaze. You look up at him and wait for him to call out your staring again but instead, he's just watching you, pupils blown. 

"You are...so beautiful," you breathe. He makes a dismissive noise but a flush travels up his chest and to his face. It's true. There's something about him that makes you think you could look every second for the rest of your life and not get enough.

"Should be sayin' that to you." He strokes himself once and you lick your lips. "You got a condom? Should be one in my pocket if you don't." Does he always carry one? Or did he hope to get lucky with you, just like you've been thinking about him?

"Bedside table drawer." He goes for it and you remember too late that the drawer has...other things in it, too. His eyebrows raise and he eyes your small collection of toys but says nothing, though his cock twitches again. If you asked, would he use them on you? He seems like the type to be into that. But right now you need him inside you so badly you might combust.

"Can I?" He pauses before handing the foil square to you. You take him in hand and stroke him from root to tip. He makes a noise low in his throat and you lean in to trace the vein along the bottom of his shaft with your tongue. His hips twitch forward just a bit like he's trying to keep control and failing. You know the feeling. He's warm and heavy on your tongue and the slightest bit salty. You kind of lose the plot for a second, thoughts of him fucking you fading with the desire to make him feel good like this, to blow him until he's moaning your name like you were moaning his.

Joel slides his fingers into your hair and you manage to take him about halfway before he tugs gently. "I'm not complainin'," he says, voice tight. "'Specially when you look so damn pretty like this. But I've been hard as a fuckin' rock for an hour and I ain't as young as I used to be, so..." He trails off.

You place a dainty kiss on his tip and pat his hip. "Another time," you say, realizing too late what you've implied, but Joel just smirks. You tear open the foil and slide the condom on as gingerly as you can but he still hisses your name like he's scolding you, that hand in your hair pulling once again just a little. You feel the arousal pooling in your gut, sticky between your thighs. 

He tugs on the collar of your shirt. "Off," he says. You're quick to obey, whipping it to a corner of your apartment along with your bra. Joel just looks for a second before reaching a calloused hand to palm one breast, thumb sliding over your nipple. "Look at you," he says, breathy, with a squeeze. "Christ."

"You gonna fuck me, Joel Miller?" You blink up at him. He swallows visibly, throat bobbing before that smirk is back. 

"Only ‘cause you asked so nicely." 

You scramble back up the bed on your hands and knees, leaning down on your elbows and presenting him with your bare cunt. "Cause I'm such a lady."

"That so?" he murmurs. He drags his fingers through your folds slowly, brows furrowed. You fist your hands in the sheets. "You want it like this?" he asks. He palms your hip, traces the curve of your ass and presses his fingertips into your skin. You wiggle at him a little. Most guys you hook up with want it like this. You don't mind being fucked from behind, don't mind being able to close your eyes with your face shoved in the sheets and just feel. God knows with a dick his size you'll be feeling it regardless of the position you're in. But part of you does want to look at Joel, to watch him, his expression, his handsome, rugged face. Feel his arms around you, feel the warmth of his breath on your lips as he fucks you. See what his eyes look like when he comes. But this is enough.

"Do I need to say please?"

The head of his cock presses against your entrance in reply. You crane your neck to see as much of him as you can. He's focused on your ass with a light frown, hands resting on your hips.

"Gonna go slow," he grumbles. His gaze meets yours. "For my benefit as much as yours."

Words don't come. You're breathless and dripping, desperate for him to just get on with it. 

"Joel, are you gonna just stand there --"

He slowly, torturously slowly, starts to slide into you. The stretch is immediate, has you face down in the sheets, eyes fluttering. Each inch of painful stretch fades quickly to throbbing pleasure, a fullness that has you keening. 

You press your hips back into him but his fingers grip tighter, holding you in place. "What did I say?" he grits out. 

"Feels so good, so big," you babble. There's nothing left in your brain, your body, but this. But Joel. You have to have all of him. "I can take it, I can take your cock, I --"

"Got quite the mouth on you, huh?" he says. He keeps pressing into you, filling you up inch by inch. "Okay?" he pants. "Look at me, tell me it feels good --"

You crane your neck again, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes and look at him. His own are lidded, mouth open in an "o" like he can hardly believe it himself. A flush runs down his chest and if you didn't know better you'd say he's trembling.

"Yes, I -- god, Joel, keep going, please --"

"Doin' good, sweetheart," he coos. His hand strokes up and down your spine. "Almost there. Almost takin' all of me."

He bottoms out and you see stars. You feel lips on your back, the warm puffs of his breath on your skin as he waits for you. It's a fine line between pain and pleasure and you're walking the tightrope but the stretch is delicious. You can feel every inch of him. Your heartbeat is loud in your ears and you shift your hips a little, loving it when Joel moans.

"Alright," you manage. "Move, please." His fingertips are back on your hips and give you a squeeze before he starts to drag his cock out of you. The tip of him catches the spot inside of you that makes your back arch as he pulls out and then again when he thrusts in. 

"All that work, my fingers and my tongue and you're still so fuckin' tight. Christ."

The only thing you manage to say is a litany of his name.

"Lemme hear it, baby," he grinds out. Baby. "Be so loud those fuckers downstairs hear you--"

You meet his thrusts as best you can and even though it feels so good, even though you're so full, it's not bringing you to the edge like you need. Your neck is starting to hurt from the way you're twisting to see him, your fingers gripping the sheets as hard as you can because you want to be touching him instead. But this is good, this works, maybe if you touch your clit, you'll --

You reach between your legs and Joel pulls out. You get off your elbows and turn around, almost gasping at the loss of him. "Is something wrong?"

He's frowning at you. "Should be askin' you that."

You don't know what to say. Your cunt throbs a little from being empty, the ache settling in now that he's not there to literally fuck it away. "What?"

"You stopped makin' those noises," he says softly. “The ones you were makin’ before.” You turn around and sit facing him, suddenly a little self-conscious. "Ain't gonna fuck you in a position you don't like."

"I --" You try to fight through the haze of your brain for words. "I liked it fine."

Joel waits. He just stands there at the edge of the bed and waits. 

"Maybe..." you try again. "Would on my back be okay for you?"

His eyebrows raise like he can't believe you'd think otherwise. "That'll work for me," he says slowly. "Grab a pillow." You shift back on the bed as he kneels on it, positioning himself between your legs. You hand him one of your pillows and he taps your hip. "Up." You obey and he slides it under you so your lower half is lifted a bit before he presses one leg to the side, spreading you open. He slowly bends the other so that your thigh is pressed against your torso in a deep stretch without being painful. You feel bare, exposed in a way he somehow hasn't yet achieved. 

Joel fixes his gaze on your face. "Let's try that." He strokes himself once and then leans over you, bracing himself on one hand near your head. He lines up to press his cock into you again. Faster than last time, you wince a little but you dig your fingertips into his back to tell him to keep going. He bottoms out and you immediately feel the difference, eyes fluttering shut. Before it was like he was plowing into you, like you were so full you could hardly handle it. But like this it's like he's melting into you, like there is no space between you anymore. You're full but it's not so harsh. You don’t know where you end and he begins.

"That better?" he croaks. You force yourself to look at him and find his face closer, closer than you thought he'd get, breath warm on your face. His forehead is beaded with sweat and his eyes search your face. This close you can see they’re grey, the lines at the corners deep with strain. Even like this, stuffed full of his cock, you could look at him all day.

"Move, Joel," you tell him. He takes that for a yes and starts at a punishing pace. You have no idea how he's kept it together this long, considering you've felt on the edge of another orgasm this entire time. You anchor your arms on his shoulders as his thrusts make you see stars. 

"Ask for what you want, you hear me?" His balls smack loudly against you and he presses his lips to your ear. "You ask and I'll do my damn best."

You don't know what it is -- the overwhelming sensation of his cock dragging in and out at this angle, how close he is, his words -- but you feel tears at the corners of your eyes again. You nod frantically, hands grasping for purchase on his back. 

"C'mon," Joel says. "Gotta use that mouth, sweetheart."

"Yes," you pant. "Yes, yes, Joel, yes --"

"Fuckin' perfect for me," he moans. His lips trail up your cheek, tongue catching your tears before he presses them to yours in a messy kiss that's more teeth and breath than anything else. 

"Joel, Joel, Joel --"

"Gonna come for me? Gonna soak my cock like you did my face?"

Your orgasm comes like the snap of a rubber band. You hold him as tight as you can as it washes through you, the waves almost painful as he keeps fucking you fast and hard, your name a series of broken sounds from his mouth until his hips stutter and he groans deep in his chest. You try to keep your eyes on him as you come down from your high and are rewarded with the scrunch of his brow and the slight part of his lips as he comes. Beautiful, you think. 

The room is all of sudden much quieter without the sounds of your fucking. It's just the dull sounds of Frank's through the floor and your combined panting as he pulls out of you and flops on the bed beside you. You wince this time, the soreness really settling in. Joel finds your hand and kisses the back of it in a move so unexpectedly tender you can't look at him, raw as you are already. The bed shifts and you figure he's throwing out the condom. 

"You okay?" he says. You open your eyes and find him standing at the edge, looking at you. He's holding your robe from the bathroom. You stretch and let him look. 

"Yeah," you reply. You give him a smile as you scoot to the edge and wrap yourself in it when he holds it out. "Thank you." Joel grunts. 

You go to the bathroom yourself to pee and see the damage. Hair a mess, your mascara gathered around your eyes like you've been working hard. You've got hickies forming on your neck and chest, the skin rubbed a bit raw from his beard around your mouth. You love how you look right now. 

You look like you got fucked well. And you did. 

But now you want a shower and a snack and to go to bed. 

You half expect Joel to be gone when you go back into the bedroom. You remember belatedly that you don't let hookups stay the night. Will he leave if you ask him to? If he's already left then you don't need to worry about it. A small part of you worries you won’t ask him to go.

Instead, he's sitting on the edge of your bed putting his boots on. His shirt is unbuttoned but other than that he's dressed. He looks up briefly. His own hair is going in a thousand different directions and if this wasn't a one-night stand you'd fix it for him, a hand pushing it back like you did when he was between your thighs. But things are different outside the heat of the moment. 

"You want some water or anything?" you ask instead.

He shakes his head and finishes his boot, stands and buttons his shirt. "Nah," he says. "Should just head out."

You wonder belatedly if there's anyone at home missing him. Maybe he's got a wife. Maybe he's got a life that he's running away from and into your arms. 

"Bar'll be closed by now, or as good as," you say. You spy his jacket by the door and bend to pick it up. "No one'll see you."

Joel's face does something funny that you don't quite know how to read. He takes his jacket from you and shrugs it on. "Alright," he says. 

He looks awkward in a way you didn't know he could so you throw him a line. "Thanks," you say. For fucking me. For listening to me. For making me feel good. "It was fun. See you around?"

His expression softens. He steps close and gently holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger before kissing you once, firmly but chastely compared to what you were doing before. 

"See you around," he says. And then he opens the door and disappears down the stairs. 

You hear the outer door close and only then do you let out a breath. Your entire body feels like you just spent hours at the gym. But your mind? It's going a thousand miles an hour. You don't know what to think about first -- how Joel looked, how he spoke to you, how his hands felt. How he implored you to ask for what you wanted, how he made you feel good because it made him feel good. How you desperately, desperately want to see him again, to know him in every possible way. How you want him to walk back up the stairs and hold you until you fall asleep.

And that's not how you expected to feel. It's not how you should feel after a one-night stand with a guy you serve a few times a week at your place of employment. Like he saw right to the core of you, like he gave you something you didn't know you needed. 

You need to get a hold of yourself. This is how it starts -- this is how you get hurt. You care. Well, you always care, but no one has to know that. You let someone care about you. Not that Joel does, but he could. 

But isn't that the one thing you want most of all? 

You sleep in the next day. There's not much that needs to be done at Frank's besides bookkeeping and inventory which doesn't take you long. When you finally make it downstairs, three Advil popped to ease the soreness of your entire body, you're surprised to find Bill himself sitting at the bar. 

He looks just as you remember, hair a little longer and a little grayer. Shit kickers and jeans, a hunting jacket and trucker hat. You'll bet his actual truck is parked around back where no one from the road can see it. 

"Uh, hi?" Bill hasn't come around for at least a year, which is making your stomach sink a little. The last time was when there was a fire because some dumbass tried to smoke inside and he wanted to make sure you weren't going to quit on him for having to throw water on the nasty curtains. 

"Heard about Seth," he says. Always right to the point, this guy. He's drinking what looks to be Coke with a lemon. "Sit." You do as he says. So much for bookkeeping.

"Yep," you say. You have no idea where he heard it and know better than to ask. "No big deal."

"I want to retire."

What? "Do you...work here?" Bill appreciates honesty and he's the kind of asshole that respects you if you're an asshole back. 

"No," he says. "But I own the fuckin' dump. And me and Frank want to retire."

"There's a Frank?"

"My partner, dumbass. Keep up."

You were already groggy and still muddled from last night but this is forcing you to bring everything into sharp focus. Bill wants to retire. Which means he wants to...

"So my options are to sell this dump or find someone to take it."

If he sells the bar you're shit out of luck. No way another owner would let you live upstairs the way you do for next to nothing and let you work here and run the show. This is...a lot to take in.

"Are you listening to me?" Bill says. You blink a few times. 

"No," you admit. "Can you say that again?"

He sighs. "Do you want it?"

"The bar?" you ask incredulously. 

"No, idiot, the dumpster out back. Yes, the bar." He raps his knuckles on the bar top. "You could keep everything the same. It's just paperwork, really. I'll just give it to you. God knows a young person like you could make it nicer, turn a better profit." He says it like it's an insult. 

"Are you fucking serious?" This goes against most every rule you've had for yourself for the last who knows how long. Don't get attached, keep moving. No one really needs you so you can disappear whenever. You haven't gotten bored yet, haven't gotten restless, but you know it'll happen. There's no way you can do this forever. But owning a bar? That would make you stay. You'd have no out. You’d have to let yourself be seen, let yourself be needed. You’d have to commit. You’d have to not fuck it up.

"Why not?" he shrugs. "I know you said it was temporary back when you moved in, but you practically run it."

He's right. Everything is temporary for you. But would sticking around be so bad? Would trying to actually make a life for yourself, have a home base, a thing you care about be the end of the world? And then there's Joel...No. Not going there. 

"I..."

"Either you take it or I shut it down." Bill gets off his stool and looks around. "No one cares enough about it to try to sell it."

"Then why me?"

"Do you care about it?" he asks. His piercing stare pins you to your stool, compels you to be honest with him where you're rarely honest with yourself. 

"Yeah," you say. "I do."

"Then there's you're fuckin' answer. I know you do. You clean the shit out of this place and train the seasonal dipshits and learn the names of the fuckin’ drunks and live upstairs and make this a good place for good people to come. You think no one notices, but I notice. We all notice." It's possibly the most words Bill has ever said to you in a row. 

"Can I...think about it?"

He shrugs. "Sure," he says. "Not too long, though. Gotta decide by the end of the year. Maybe earlier."

That gives you three months, give or take. To figure out what the fuck you're going to do.

With one conversation Bill has shattered your entire life here. Now there’s actually a timer on it, this little piece you’ve carved out and started to enjoy. Could you make it a real thing? Could you finally admit to yourself that this is what you want – to be wanted? To be needed? To have something that’s yours?

The bar door shuts and you realize Bill has left you alone with your thoughts. You shift in your stool and a wave of soreness rolls through you from your core. 

You thunk your forehead on the bar. “Fuck me,” you say to the empty room. 

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction

[cupid-styles]

puppy

Y/N has always wanted to have a threesome, and Harry is always willing to give her whatever she wants.

Word count: 3.7k

Content warnings: SMUT!!!! 18+. Like, literally just smut without plot. I wrote this as part of a longer series I abandoned and figured this was still fun enough to post!

Anyway, this is a FMF threesome with daddy kink, dirty talk, pet play, some anal, dom/dom/sub dynamics, some degrading vibes, a lil cum play. I need to take a cold shower. Enjoy!!

I wasn't entirely sure how I ended up in this position. 

Harry and I had talked about our sexual experiences a few times. We both preferred to keep our sexualities unlabeled and had had many hookups and flings with people of all types of genders and identities.

We exchanged stories about realizing that we weren't straight, and talked about the first times we kissed or had sex with someone of the same gender. It was freeing, I think, for him to be able to express that side of himself.

He said that his friends knew, but always felt a little uncomfortable talking to them about it. I was happy to provide a safe space for him, especially if it meant we could be more open with one another.

Because of our fluid identities, we'd had some conversations about potentially having a threesome, or even inviting another couple entirely. We were both on the same page about it — that we'd prefer it to happen organically instead of planning it out, which made me feel nervous.

Harry had had a few threesomes before, but I never had. In fact, I never even had a partner who was as open and understanding as he was, and when he said that he wanted me to safely explore and have any experience I wanted, my knees buckled. I knew that a threesome was something that I'd always been interested in, and I most certainly wanted it to happen with Harry and another girl.

It just so happened that Ash, a friend of a friend from nights out together, seemed to be equally interested. 

We were friendly with Ash, but we didn't really know anything about her, which made her a good candidate — we wouldn't see her in our friend group all the time, and it was a no-strings-attached type of deal. It obviously helped that she was attractive and flirty, with long hair, pretty tattoos, and nipple piercings that always showed through her tee-shirts. 

So, when Harry noticed Ash and I being flirty and touchy at the bar that evening, he pulled me aside. I had expected him to be jealous and possessive but instead, he proposed inviting Ash to join us for a night.

"Y'can say no if you want, puppy," he mumbled, his thumb finding my bottom lip as he searched my eyes for a semblance of my feelings towards his question. He gently flicked my lip, making me pout, which always made him smile. "Jus' figured that you two were getting along so well, and I know you think she's pretty, so it could be fun."

"Yes," I had breathed out, nodding, feeling like a bobblehead at my immediate affirmative answer. I didn't have to think long before I started envisioning it — Ash's lips on mine while Harry's hands wandered my body, her soft fingers as a contrast to Harry's more calloused, rough ones. "Yes. I want that."

"Yeah?" Harry smirked, "Y'want me to ask her, or do you?" 

From there, it all just kind of... happened. The three of us had a few more drinks at the bar — I needed at least one more to get me feeling floaty and confident, but not enough to the point where I was teetering on drunk — before we headed back to Ash's apartment since it was the closest. I was silently grateful for that. I trusted Ash and Harry, and I trusted the situation, but I didn't want to always think of her whenever I laid in Harry's bed.

On the walk back, I started to feel a little bolder. The mood was definitely starting to settle in between us, and fizzles of excitement popped amidst us as we each tried to predict what would happen first. It was just a matter of time before one of us broke, tearing down the walls and giving into the thick sexual tension. 

My hand was tightly clasped around Harry's as we entered Ash's place. We were both quiet as we politely slipped off our shoes as she gave us a small tour. 

"Y'doing okay?" Harry asked, peering down at me. Ash looked at me with concerned eyes, and I appreciated that they both wanted to make sure that I was still feeling safe and interested. Though, with the fact that they both were looking at me like that, it was clear that I had unintentionally assumed a submissive role in the dynamic, making my core warm. 

"Yeah," I said, clearing my throat. "Are... are you guys still doing okay?" 

Harry smiled and nodded, a dimple popping out of his right cheek. Ash stepped towards us and intertwined her fingers with mine so that now I was holding both of their hands. 

"Do you guys have a safe word?" she asked, tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear. "Just in case any of us wanna stop at any point, no questions asked."

"We'll just go with red," Harry spoke, answering for me. "That okay, puppy?" 

I nodded my head and looked up at him, then back to Ash. 

"Puppy, hm?" Ash smirked, wandering her hand to the back of my neck, squeezing gently. "Are you gonna be our good pup tonight, sweetheart?" 

My mouth went dry and Harry squeezed my hand, as if he was urging me to answer. I was starting to feel overwhelmed, but in the best way possible. I began to feel wetness pooling in my panties at the domineering tone of Ash's voice. 

"Go on, angel," Harry encouraged, his other hand finding the small of my back. "Don't you wanna be good tonight?"

"Yes," I swallowed, blinking owlishly. "Yes, I wanna be good for you both." 

"That's sweet," Ash murmured. She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth as her head angled towards mine. "Can I kiss you, puppy? Is that okay?" 

I looked up at Harry. We hadn't exactly discussed limits before going into this, so I wasn't sure what was appropriate and what wasn't. Harry smiled gently at my submissiveness, and I could tell that he was pleased I wanted his permission before I answered. 

"You can kiss her if you want," he said, tapping my butt gently. "'s fine, baby, I can tell that you want to. You're nearly drooling over it."

My cheeks warmed up in embarrassment and Ash snickered, waiting for me to make the first move. I leaned forward to close the gap between us, pressing my lips against her soft ones. She was eager in her movements, but I didn't mind it. She licked over my bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore my mouth, which I quickly granted. I felt Harry's arm wrap around my waist, pressing me closer to his body as our tongues licked at each other. My core was starting to ache, and I was surprised at how turned on I'd gotten in such a short period of time. Apparently, it didn't take much with these two. 

Ash was the first to break apart, and she smirked at my spit covered lips. She pressed her thumb against my bottom lip, tapping it once, and I opened my mouth, allowing her to push it against my tongue. I closed my lips, sucking gently on her thumb. 

"Pretty girl," she mumbled, flickering her gaze to Harry. "Does she always look this sweet when she's sucking your cock?"

I felt myself flush at her words. Harry's dirty talk always got me off quicker than anything else, and Ash's was no exception. 

"Mhmm," Harry hummed, brushing my hair behind my ear as he watched me. Ash pushed her thumb further into my mouth, gently testing the waters of how far I could go. When she got to the tip of my throat, drool started to leak out of the sides of my mouth, making her coo. 

"Look at that," Harry whispered, wiping away the spit steadily leaking down my chin. "Such a good fucking girl. Bet you're all wet down there already, hm? We've barely even touched you yet and you're gagging for her fingers." 

I nodded submissively and Ash smirked, removing her fingers from my mouth. She grabbed our hands and guided us to her bedroom. Harry laid back on the white bedding and pulled me into his chest, Ash automatically finding her way between my legs. They moved so quickly that it made my head spin, but I was so excited and thankful that the teasing seemed to come to an end.

"Is he right, puppy?" Ash asked as she leaned forward to unbutton my jeans, gently pulling the zipper down. Harry helped to shimmy them off my hips and down my legs. "Have you already made a mess in these pretty little panties?" 

I glanced down at the sheer pink underwear covering my bottom half. I was grateful that I'd gone with something cuter today, complete with pretty lace detailing and a bow. 

"Answer her, puppy," Harry said. "Use your words."

"Y-yes," I spoke up, clenching my thighs together. 

"Can I see?" Ash asked as she lifted her tee-shirt, leaving her in a lacy black bralette, "Ask your daddy if I can get a look between this thighs."

I swallowed and looked up at Harry, who's pupils were already blown out. I felt his cock harden from beneath me and I bit my lip, his hand squeezing my hip. 

"Can she look, daddy?" 

"Jesus Christ," Harry mumbled, hooking his fingers beneath my underwear. "Yeah, baby, she can look."

Ash smirked and lowered down to her knees. She pushed the strip of fabric covering my modesty to the side and I nearly moaned at the way she gently blew against my pussy lips, then used her fingers to separate them, revealing my clit. 

"What a pretty pink pussy," she murmured, leaning forward to kitten lick my clit. I gasped and Harry gave my hip another squeeze, a wordless demand to stay still. Ash's movements were slow and deliberate. It was suddenly clear that she wasn't done teasing me — in fact, when her lips wrapped around my clit to gently suck at it, I felt my hole clench around nothing, making her giggle. 

"Aw, you want something to fill you up?" she asked teasingly, making my eyes nearly roll back, "I'm sure your daddy is just dying to see how messy you've gotten down here." 

Harry nodded, pressing a kiss to the side of my head. 

"Would it be okay if he helped me, puppy?" Ash murmured, her fingertips circling my hole, making me clench again. "I think we both wanna see your sweet pussy cum."

"Please," I immediately gasped out, my hand reaching out to grab Harry's, squeezing it. 

"Ask politely, pup." Harry said curtly, adjusting himself below me. He was undoubtedly growing uncomfortable with his cock quickly swelling in his trousers. 

"Please make me cum," I said, biting down on my lip as I felt Ash's fingers lightly trail up and down my pussy, "I want it so bad. Please help make me cum, daddy." 

Harry smirked at that. He pressed a chaste kiss to my cheek and nodded, untucking himself from beneath me and sinking down to his knees next to Ash. 

"Oh," Harry peeped out once he looked between his legs. His hand gripped my left thigh while Ash's fingers kept me spread open. I felt slightly embarrassed at having them stare at me, but I was too overwhelmed to say anything. 

"Pretty, hm?" Ash muttered, her thumb finding my clit and rubbing it small circles. 

"Gorgeous," Harry breathed out, allowing his own finger to brush against my hole. He watched it flutter and I moaned out, wordlessly begging for more. 

"Can we make you feel good, baby?" He asked, looking up at me. I sat up on my elbows and nodded quickly, feeling my chest and neck flush. 

"Yes, please."

I was grateful that they were finally done with their teasing, because I didn't have time to breathe before Ash's lips wrapped back around my clit. She sucked harshly as Harry slowly pushed his finger inside, curling it upwards to brush up against my g-spot. 

"Fuck," I sighed out, squirming beneath their grasp. They each had a hand wrapped around me, with Ash's nails digging into my hip and Harry's fingers splayed over my thigh. I loved the way Harry made me feel, but there was something about having two pairs of hands on me that pushed me over the edge. 

Harry steadily pumped his finger inside of me, stretching me out slightly before adding in a second. His fingertips pushed up against the soft spot inside of me while Ash's tongue moved quickly, alternating between flutters and sucks. I felt her moan against me and I sat back up, looking down to see Harry grabbing her ass, giving it a harsh smack. My eyes widened and he slapped her ass again, staring back at me with a smirk. Ash whimpered again, pushing her ass out further against his palm. 

"Thought my puppy here was the only slut, but it seems like we have two," he mumbled, give her other ass cheek a swift slap. I was surprised when I felt myself get wetter at the sight of Harry touching another girl, but feeling Ash groan out against my clit was only pushing me closer to my orgasm. "Hm? Is that right, angel? Daddy's little slut, yeah? Gon' cum for us?" 

I nodded quickly, my jaw falling slack as he smacked her ass again, continuing his assault on the spongy spot inside of me. Ash moaned out once more before I came, pushing my hips down against her mouth to create more friction as my hole pulsed around Harry's fingers. 

"Pretty fuckin' pussy," Harry muttered, withdrawing his fingers to lick them clean. I shivered at his words and Ash placed a kiss to my pussy lips before crawling up my body. She hovered over me and pressed her lips against mine, pushing her tongue into my mouth. I groaned at the taste and wrapped my fingers around her torso to unhook her bra. She sat up to allow me and smirked when my eyes instantly shot down to the silver bars in her nipples. She moved upwards a bit, then lowered her breast into my mouth, encasing my tongue around her nipple. 

"Shit," Ash mumbled, lolling her head to the side. Her hand came up to fondle her other breast, tweaking her nipple slightly. I switched to the other, biting at it gently, making her squeal. 

When I looked up, Harry had ditched his pants and was palming himself through his briefs. I could only imagine how painfully hard he was, and I wrapped my arms around Ash's hips, motioning for her to move up. 

"Can I taste you?" I asked, my eyes finding hers. She still had her skirt on, but I was too eager to even think about anything else but making her cum on my tongue. 

"Yeah, bunny. You've been so good," she murmured. Her hand dipped below her skirt and pushed her panties to the side, and she whimpered as she slowly circled her clit. "Want me to ride your face while daddy fucks your sweet pussy?" 

I nodded quickly and glanced over at Harry. His jaw was slack as he watched me, and I knew he was waiting to see a glimpse of me eating Ash's pussy. 

"Fuck me, daddy," I whined, licking a long stripe up Ash's pussy, eliciting a moan from her lips. "Please?" 

"Whatever you want, puppy," Harry said, quickly ditching his briefs and positioning himself over my lower half. I heard him pumping his cock, which was undoubtedly slick with pre-cum. I felt him nudge at my hole, which was still slightly sensitive from my previous orgasm, but still welcomed him, especially when I heard the lengthy groan tumble from his lips when he bottomed out. As he slowly started to build up a pace, I moaned against Ash's pussy, trying to keep my focus as my tongue darted in and out of her. 

"Fuck, your cock looks so good fucking her," Ash mumbled out. Her hands found my tits and she squeezed over my bra, slowly testing out the waters as she began to ride my tongue. 

"Mhm, mhm!" I whimpered out, the sensations quickly becoming overwhelming again. I could feel Ash's pussy clenching over my tongue and I reached up to circle her clit, using my fingertips to press against the pearl. Between her taste on my mouth and Harry thrusting in and out of me, I was beginning to unravel again. 

"You're gonna make me fuckin' cum," Ash sighed, picking up the pace on my tongue, "Rub my clit faster, puppy, y'can do it." 

"Make her cum, sweetheart," Harry slurred out, his fingers finding my own clit. "Be a good girl for us and make Ash cum all over your tongue." 

I moaned loudly and rubbed at her clit faster, just as she instructed. I listened to her chants of "just like that, baby", looking up to watch her come undone. Her head fell back as I felt her hole clenching violently, her swollen clit slick with her juices and my spit. 

"Shit!" She exclaimed. "Fuck, what a good mouth." 

I heard her let out a sigh as she dismounted, laying down next to me to give me a kiss. Her tongues danced together but Harry's thrusting caused me to moan into her mouth, making Ash smirk. 

"Talk to him," Ash instructed, trailing her fingers over her breasts and back down to her pussy. "Is he fucking you good, pup?" 

"Yes," I whimpered, my pussy gushing as I felt his balls smack my ass. "'M gonna cum again, daddy." 

Harry smirked, his fingers pressing harder against my clit. "What do you need, angel?" 

I couldn't even think with the way my core was winding up so tightly. Feeling Harry's cock so deep inside me and watching Ash touch herself made me speechless, my brain going fuzzy at the sensations around me. 

"Aw, are you all cockdumb, puppy?" Ash teased, flipping onto her side and lifting her leg up, allowing us both to see her finger herself. "Your daddy asked you what you need. Are you gonna answer him?" 

"I— I need more," I slurred out, my eyes fluttering. 

"More?" Ash asked, her eyebrow quirked. Harry nodded, quickly understanding and pulled out, tapping my ass. 

"All fours, sweetheart," he instructed. I scrambled to get onto my elbows, pressing my face into the pillow and pushing my ass into the air. Harry pushed his slick cock back into my hole and he grunted out, spreading my ass cheeks apart. 

"Oh!" I gasped when I felt him spit down into my asshole, his fingertip circling. 

"A little anal whore too?" Ash asked, shifting on her knees, "You really got lucky with her, hm?" 

I couldn't think as I felt Ash's smaller finger press into my tight hole. My eyes rolled back, spit steadily leaking from my mouth as my pussy clamped around Harry's cock tightly, signaling that I was close. 

"Show her how hard you cum for me, puppy," Harry instructed, continuing his constant assault on my g-spot. I trailed my fingers down my chest and to my pussy, where I found my wet and swollen clit begging for attention. I moaned loudly as I began pressing circles into the pearly nerves, making Ash giggle. 

"So fuckin' desperate, aren't you?" she cooed, a hand — I wasn't sure if it was hers or Harry's — coming down to harshly slap my ass. "Greedy puppy, having your daddy fuck you and some random girl finger your ass. That's all you're good for, hmm? Silly little pillow princess."

"Fuck!" I exclaimed, the knot in my core finally fraying. My limbs let out and I trembled, muscles contracting harshly as my orgasm came over me in intense waves, making me scream a myriad of curses. I heard Ash crooning behind me, encouraging Harry to continue fucking me through it, but my vision went white, my body hot and sweaty. My body flush against the sheets, I felt Harry pull out followed by a spray of warm cum dispersing on my butt. 

I was barely aware of what was going on around me, still twitching and coming down from one of the strongest orgasms I've ever had. I shivered when I felt a wet sensation from behind me — it took me a second to figure it out, but when I heard Harry groan out in sensitivity, I realized it was Ash licking his cum off of my body. 

I whimpered at the feeling of her soft tongue slurping up the liquid. She crawled up to me and I shifted my head, leaning on my side to look at her. She had a smirk on her face and I nodded willingly, knowing what she was looking to do. 

"Open up." Ash mumbled before pressing her lips to mine. It was mere moments before both of our mouths were open, tongues dancing as we swapped Harry's cum between us. I moaned as I swallowed the remaining bit, backing away and licking my lips. 

"You two are trouble," Harry muttered from behind me. Ash let out a giggle and I looked up to see him pulling his briefs on, his tee-shirt from earlier in his hand, the other wrapped protectively around my shoulder.

“Lemme grab you two some water,” Ash said, climbing off the bed. She picked up her shirt from earlier and pulled it on her form. “You can stay the night if you want, there’s a guest room down the hall.”

Harry glanced at me as I bit my lip, “That’s alright, I think we’ll probably grab an Uber and head home.” He replied, grateful that he could read my expressions without a second thought.

"Don't worry about it. Just make sure she gets some aftercare, she's looking a little floaty." Ash murmured, stroking my cheek. I smiled gently, still buzzing from my orgasm. Harry chuckled as he sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling his tee-shirt over my body. 

"Was that good, baby?" he asked quietly, running a hand through my messy hair. 

"Mhm. Thank you."

"Anything for you, puppy. Now, let's get you home and in the bath."

#writing #harry #harry styles #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic #harry styles blurb #fanfic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles writing #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles au #fanfiction #fan fiction #harry styles x reader #love on tour #harry's house #harry styles daddy #fine line

[yan-lorkai]

Hii, Lorks ~

Had see that your writing for my favorie earl now, have any hcs for older sibling reader and young brother Ciel? Sorry about bad english, is not my first language

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Been busy with uni stuff but nothing couldn't stop me from writing this now that inspiration strikes me and since we're having a new season I began to reread the manga these past few days and wow, I still love this lil dude. Look at his smiled he knows he's adorable. The Green Witch arc remains my favorite <3

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warning: Yandere content, platonic yandere, protectiveness.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ You were a few years older than the twins, but you were very close to them as well as being a constant figure for them as they grew up. You were what they would describe as the best sibling in the world, even though you liked to make fun of them and make jokes that embarrassed them in front of people, like any good old sibling would do.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ When you had free time, you enjoyed teaching them chess and other logic games, loving the way the expressions on their faces were confusing whenever you used a different strategy. These were simple times when the whole family would get together to watch you play while everyone chatted. Times that were lost after the attack, all the joy, all the warmth, that mixed with the sad blue of the wallpaper until it turned the entire mansion into something cold.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Ciel came back, lost, deeply hurt, and you were the only person he told what happened. The whole kidnapping and the cult, and it broke your heart, your brilliant little brother was an unresponsive blank as he recounted the facts, as if he didn't want to realize the impact that that event had on him. As if he was still on autopilot and couldn't let his guard down. And things were worse now that he had lost his twin brother, who he was as attached to as you were.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ But you were there to support him every step of the way, holding his hand after a nightmare, wiping the rare tears from his eyes, listening to everything he had to say. Ciel's stubborn and prideful, he never asks for help but he has this serene smile on his face when you go out of your way to help him anyway. You knew he was strong for withstanding all the pressure, for enduring everything he went through and for having the strength necessary to overcome everything, and you reminded him of that in each of his "weak moments". It reminded him that he was loved and that you would always be by his side.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ He's still twelve, he's still a child, and you're always telling him stories to sleep and taking him out to take his mind off his trauma. Sometimes you just sit next to him and listen to him express his thoughts.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Ciel can be a little overprotective sometimes, which is funny considering you should be the overprotective one due to the age difference. He always sends Sebastian with you on your errands, to protect you from some attack or someone. And you don't complain, his intentions are good and you can understand the anxiety he feels upon knowing that those responsible for the attack are free and alive.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Being a few years older, you know a lot about balls, about every important person and how to negotiate with them. And you teach each of these things to Ciel when he decides to claim the title of Queen's Watchdog, giving advice and sharing your opinion whenever he asks you, being by his side as his left hand.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ And being his left hand means that you and Sebastian interact on a daily basis, protecting Ciel, going on missions together, collecting information and the such.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ In private, when your masks can finally fall, you call him by his real name, hug him lightly and let him know that no matter what, you'll be there for him. Always.

⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Ciel actually told you everything, everything except that he made a contract with a demon. He hopes you can forgive him when the contract is completed, when he and his soul disappear from this world, without any chance of seeing you one last time in the so-called paradise.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Even after your death, Ciel might remember the loving way you sat in the chair next to his bed when he was sick and took care of him. He will remember the silly promises you made, the bad jokes you told him to make him laugh until his stomach hurt, the little adventures to steal cookies on Christmas morning. Things too precious for him.

#yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere black butler #yandere ciel phantomhive #yandere ciel #yandere ciel x reader #yandere ciel phantomhive x reader #platonic yandere #ciel x reader #ciel phantomhive x reader

[seababehh]

When did you get this? || Matthew Sturniolo x Reader.

Summary: Being best friends with Nick is great, but having his brother be your worst enemy is another story. What happens when summer is rolling around and it’s time those layers peel off and the bikini’s start rocking, and Matt so happens to see a newly healed belly ring attached to the girl he’s not allowed to touch?

MATTHEW STURNIOLO X F!READER.

Warnings : Smut (no actual P n V just a lot of kisses and touching. If you’re not into it, go look somewhere else. :)) Sexual tension (obvs), bikini weather, grumpy as shit Matt, slight flirting from Chris, belly piercing, worshiping, suggestive. Lots of touching LMAO.

Authors Note: WELCOME TO MY FIRST POST YAYYY, sorry if it’s shit. I just got my belly ring pierced and wanted to write something a little spicy with my favorite brunette. Tell me what you think!

THIS IS NOT PROOF READ

———

I groan, flopping down onto Nick’s bed with my face looking at the ceiling and an eye roll received from the triplet next to me. Nick was laying on his stomach, scrolling through his phone aimlessly as we both tried to beat the hot weather. With a house this nice and their damn AC doesn’t work? I was ready to situate myself into the fridge like a damn frozen hotdog.

“Nick.” I groaned dramatically once again, rolling onto my side and placing my hand on him, trying to be more annoying than usual. “What the fuck are you on about now?” He slapped his phone down on the sheets and shuffled to smack my hand away. I smiled cheekily at him, “It’s so fucking hot man, can we not do something else instead of melt into your bed?” I pulled on a strand of hair gently, letting it fall on my face and blew it away with a huff.

“Welllll, we do have a pool. Why don’t we go and see what my brothers are doing and we can have a pool day?” He looked at me with a smile, making me frown. “I don’t have a swimsuit here you asshat.” I sat up, looking around his room. Nick got up and looked in one of his drawers, before pulling out a black bikini. I looked at him questionably, before I was interrupted. “Before you get your fucking mouth yapping, one of my girlfriends left it here. Try it on and i’ll give you a t-shirt and a towel.” He threw it at my face, causing me to laugh and take it as well as the oversized T-shirt to the bathroom. “You have other friends?” I teased as I walked out the door.

I closed the bathroom door and started to strip out of my jeans and tank top. The bikini looked a bit small, but I slipped it on anyway. I tied the bottom’s around my waist, while adjusting the top to fit correctly around my chest. I threw my hair up and out of my face as I looked in the mirror. I have to say, it’s a little small, but it did make me look good and showed my curves off in the perfect way. I looked at my belly ring in the mirror, the silver gems with a hanging star dangled from my navel. I smirked to myself, thank god it’s healed. I shuffled the t-shirt over my head and walked back out to Nick’s room.

Once Nick and I were all ready with our beach towels and fresh pairs of sunglasses on our faces, we walked through the house to the backyard. Nick was currently talking my ear off as I opened the sliding door. Chris was chilling on the side of the pool with his weight against his elbows behind him, and backwards cap covering his curls and a set of red swim trunks on. He was currently looking at his phone, which I’m assuming was connected to the speaker. Matt was sitting on the beach chair in the shade with a grumpy look on his face that matched his black swim trunks,as he watched Nick and I enter the backyard.

“Look who decided to fuckin show up.” Matt said as he crossed his tattooed arms and leaned back in the chair even more. I strutted over, placing my stuff into the chair next to him, before taking my sunglasses and placing them on my head. “Nice to see you too, Matty.” I winked, hearing him grumble at the nickname as I walked to the end of the pool by the steps. I looked at Nick, who just took his shirt off and jumped into the pool with a shriek. I laughed, placing my feet on the first step. I waved at Chris, who smirked at me. “Aren’t you gonna jump in too?” He asked.

I gave him a look, “Are you fucking joking? Do I look that dumb to you?” We shared a laugh, before I placed my sunglasses on the floor and reached for the hem of my Nick’s over sized shirt. I crossed my arms and pulled it up over my head, throwing it at Chris’s face when he decided to let out a wolf whistle. I could feel eyes on me, snapping my gaze to Matt’s whose ice blue eyes didn’t leave mine. I tried not to smile, before making it down the steps and finally pulling my head under.

I resurfaced, pushing my hair away from my face before swimming over to Nick. Chris eventually joined and we were all splashing about and having fun. Chris had made it under the water and placed my legs on his shoulders, pushing up and I was now completely out of the water. I let out a shriek and a laugh, holding onto his head as we wobbled about. I then looked at Matt, who was sitting in his chair still. “Aren’t you gonna join us Matty?” I teased, pushing his buttons. I heard a hoot and shout from Chris and Nick, but Matt just replied with a “In there with you? No fucking thank you.” And looked away.

I rolled my eyes, before letting out a shriek as Nick had pushed me off of Chris’s shoulders.

—

After a while of swimming and having fun, I had now moved to the side of the pool, where I was lying on my back and soaking in some sun. I could feel the silver gem in my naval get hot, and my mouth became dry as I eventually sat up and looked at the boys. Nick was now laying on his stomach next to me, Chris was lounging around next to Matt on the beach chairs. “Okay, i’m fucking thirsty. Does anyone want anything to drink?” I asked, Nick asking for red bull, Chris shouting for a Pepsi, and I got a scoff from Matt.

I got up, sauntering in through the sliding door before making my way to the kitchen. I obviously didn’t hear who came in, because as soon as I closed the fridge door and turned around, Matt was standing right in front of me. I gasped at the sight, placing the drinks on the counter before looking at him with a glare. “What the fuck Matt?” I asked, placing a hand on my chest to calm my breathing.

I looked up at him, his chest wise rising and falling fast, and his hands were almost in fists at his side. I looked at him with a confused look on my face. “Hello? Are you deaf?” I could basically feel the anger from where I was standing. “When did you get this?” He gently placed a hand on my naval, just under my ring and gently caressed the star dangling against my skin. My breathe hitched, looking down from his hand back up to his eyes. His gaze followed mine, “W-what?” I asked dumbly, the air around us tightening as he moved closer to me.

He looked down on me, “Do I really have to repeat myself? When did you get this?” He said sternly, both his palms now pressed against my hips, his thumbs running under my naval once again. My skin felt like it was on fire, and it was now my turn to breathe heavily. “I got it in winter, so it’s completely healed by summer.” I said quietly, keeping my eyes on his. He licked his teeth under his lips. “Do you know what you’ve been doing to me? Sauntering around in this? And then I look down you to see a fucking belly ring?” He spoke in a raspy voice, pulling at the waist band of my bikini bottoms and letting it snap against my skin. I gasped, looking down at the hands on my hips, back up to his face. His brown curls fall over his forehead, as he wet his lips.

“What are you doing to me?” He whispered this time, making me shiver. His grip on my waist tightened, pulling my closer to him as his gaze went from my lips back to my eyes. I placed my hands on his chest as he slowly leaned closer. His lips barely grazed mine, and my heart felt like it was hammering against my chest. At the same time, it felt like if I let out a single breath, the moment would be over. I gently fluttered my eyes closed, leaning my head up and taking the leap. I placed my lips on his, and immediately it was like a fire had started.

He started to kiss my lips roughly, placing a hand behind my head and bringing me closer. I whimpered a little, placing my hands behind his neck and I began playing and pulling his hair. He let out a groan, before reaching down and placing his hands under my thighs, lifting me up and having me cross my legs behind his waist. His hands then moved to my ass, giving it a firm squeeze. I gasped, allowing his tongue to enter my mouth as he moved with me to the downstairs bathroom. He slammed the door closed and placed me on the counter with my ass nearly spilling into the sink.

I pulled back from the kiss and hissed as the cold tile pressed against my hot skin. He grabbed my jaw and focused my view on him again, kissing down my jaw and neck. “Matt-!” I whined, arching my back and pushing my tiny bikini clad chest against his. “You had me riled up the whole day, looking at this gorgeous fucking body of yours.” He said, groaning into the crook of my neck as he left sloppy kisses behind. I moaned, and he pushed his hips further into mine.

His hands moved down to my thighs, giving them a rub and a squeeze, before moving his hands closer to where I needed him most. “Couldnt-.” His voice almost sounded strained, a little whine. “Couldn’t stand to see your pretty little thighs wrapped around Chris’s head and not mine.” He pulled away from the kisses he was leaving down my neck to look me directly in my eyes. My chest was heaving as I was panting from all the built up pleasure and tension I was experiencing. I almost broke from the fucked out expression he was giving me.

He then gave me a smirk, placing a kiss on my lips, then the centre of my neck, followed by ones on my collarbone. He then looked up at me as he kissed me in between my boobs, his hand snaking up and pulling my bikini from my chest, my tits falling out onto display for him. He sucked in a breath, pulling his bottom lip into his teeth before pulling one nipple into his mouth. I moaned, pulling his hair and leaning my head back at the feeling. His left hand played with the other one, and he swapped. After my boobs were covered in saliva, and growing purple and red marks, he made his way down my stomach. “You sound so good f’me.” He slurred against my skin.

He stopped just above my belly ring, before looking up at me one more time. “God, you just do things to me no one else does.” He mumbled, gently kissing against my belly ring. “This fucking ring will be in my head forever. I’ll think about this and how perfect you look forever.” He rambled, getting lower and lower before he reached my bottoms.

“P-please Matty, I need you!” I whimpered, arching my back as he was right there. He smirked, pulling his weight back up as he stood at full height again. I whined at the loss of his face between my legs, not that he was doing anything but he was just so fucking close. I looked at him confused, as he just continued to smirk. “Now, that’s what you get for riling me up the whole day.” He whispered into my ear, smirking as he kissed me one more time and opened the bathroom door and walking out.

What the fuck.

I blinked a couple times, before regaining my posture. This man, did not just get me the horniest i’ve ever been, and walk out on me? Two can play at that game.

——-

A/N 2: Agg GUYS!! this is my first ever fan fic, i’m so nervous about it. I am going to make it a 2 part series where I will eventually write proper smut, but I am just a little scared LMAO. I hope it’s good, tell me what you think!

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #colby brock x reader #johnnie guilbert #jake webber #colby brock

[gorgeouslypink]

hey pink!

i was hoping you could offer some encouragement and advice to me. basically the entire luckyvoidgirl thing yesterday, i acctually liked her success story, it made sense to me and i even listened to cee's subliminal and my parents ended up saying i don't have to go to this dumb event i was dreading so im even seeing successes with it

the thing was she said something that i can't stop thinking about. she said that a lot of tumblr is just misinformation and that the original blog that brought the void to tumblr was divineangelbee and she was exposed for lying about the void. everyone just copied whatever she said and kept spreading the same stuff she put out but her own experience was all a lie. it really got me thinking about how educated this community is about loa, like the void state and loa is so intertwined. luckyvoidgirl never said she used loa and she did something different but she got so much flack bc the void community on tumblr is so deeprooted in loa, possibly bc of angel. but anyways for a community that is so deeprooted in loa, so many people haven't entered and even worse, so many bloggers have been exposed for lying about their success story. the crazy thing is its so easy to lie on tumblr so the fact that so many have gotten caught makes me wonder how many we haven't even caught and really how does a community that knows loa struggle like this.

idk i just can't stop thinking about this and was hoping for some guidance.

hey love! im technically on break but you're not the only one spiraling so i rlly wanted to answer this.

first of all, i want to say she's just lying and this community is great but i can't. the truth of the matter is she is right. the person who brought the void to tumblr was @divineangelbee and she was the one who went around saying it was super easy and anyone can do it and she was and is still pretty much the blueprint for how a lot of voidstate tumblr thinks, but she was exposed for harassing her friends to enter the void for her. since then, many other bloggers who basically parrot the same thing as her have been exposed as well.

however i want to highlight something here. just because someone preaches something and it doesn't work out for them doesn't mean it's false. this is a super old argument, like back when bloggers like cleo and raven were super popular but people were arguing abt Sammy Ingram. basically she was a big affirm and persist girlie and people were going at her for saying this but never losing any weight (her main goal with manifestation was to lose weight but she never did and just gaslighted anyone who pointed it out, saying they were bodyshaming her). while something was off for sammy (maybe she didn't persist or maybe she just didn't bother doing her method at all), her method worked for so many people. there's boatloads and boatloads of success stories from her videos and methods. so someone can be lying about the void and still be giving legit advice.

however, the void state community on tumblr DOES have a lot of misinformation. ive seen people claim the void state is just SATS, just alpha state, theta state, delta state, it's acc just a placebo for you to guarantee manifestations, and all sorts of nonsense. now there's a new addition, people who tell you to pay money and they'll get you into the void state. it's honestly crazy how hard the community went against the luckyvoidgirl but not some of the other stuff i see here.

but anyways, what do you do?

you need to realize that you entering the void has nothing to do with the state of the void community on tumblr. people lying abt entering the void doesnt make the void a lie, it makes them a liar.

ive been in that position where i hailed bloggers and felt attached to this community so drama here messed with me internally. you shouldn't be doing that. please read my Doubts post where i talk about overcoming this and also provide many sources of proof that the void is real so that you don't need to rely on tumblr to know that:

also it helps to find a few reputable sources. i just wanted to give a shout out to someone rn: @voidprincessblog

her page is the page i would recommend to everyone. you can tell the amount of research and effort she puts into every post and you can trust her to be a reputable source on info.

im going to attach this other post of mine for you as well:

i wish you the best of luck on your void journey and hope this helps! 💟

[clerc16]

gorgeous lies

summary: is it a gorgeous lie, or is it just a dreadful truth?

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: a little angst, open ending i guess? cursing, mentions of a rocky relationship

Normally, you didn’t think about the concept of soulmates. It didn’t cross your mind. Until you met Charles; and that changed your whole perspective.

He was always there with you, for you; and you were always there for him. That’s just the way it was.

Relaxing days off were a necessity in your relationship. Calm days spent tangled between white, crisp bedsheets while small, sweet nothings were whispered and short stories were shared. Both of your lives seemed to stop once these days occurred - you were only thinking about each other while the world went on with their lives.

Honesty was very important, too. Both of your promises and words were always fulfilled. It was like an unspeakable vow; it was never really officiated but it was known.

Well, that’s what you thought anyway.

That’s what you thought, until the day you mistook Charles’ phone for yours. You tried unlocking it, but you realised that the Face ID didn’t recognise your face until it was too late.

“mate just tell her u should take a break. it’s better than to lead her on when u don’t even portray ur real feelings” read the text message. You didn’t even know who it was from - maybe Pierre, maybe Joris, maybe Arthur or Lorenzo - and frankly, you didn’t care.

You left as soon as you could. No explanation, no reasoning.

“my love, is everything ok? i’m here if u need me” Charles’ text said. You read it over so many times you memorised it. The fact he easily called you my love when he was unsure of his feelings. The way he easily made you believe him even when he didn’t believe himself.

The way you were so unbelievably attracted to him, like two opposite ends of a magnet, and all that just shattered.

Seconds turned into minutes, minutes turned into hours, hours turned into days. And Charles’ phone never got a notification that you responded.

Naturally, he came over to your house after two very long days. When you saw him on your doorstep, you wanted to slam the door in his face. But you didn’t. Instead, you ‘invite’ him in.

“Are you here to lie to me again?” You stammer. His eyebrows furrow as his eyes look deep into yours.

“What?”

“Or are you here to tell me we should take a break?” You continue. His face contorts as he finally understands what you’re referring to.

“My love, it wasn’t what it looked like-” he begins, but you cut him off as you laugh.

“Don’t my love me right now. I’m not stupid. I’m not a child. Just... get it over with, Charles. Please, just go.” You respond, your voice cracking.

Hearing the evident pain in your voice as it cracked caused his heart to crack, too.

And without another word, he was gone. Forever? Possibly.

Days dragged on like years. Days were spent crying; out of sadness, out of guilt, out of regret. They blended into one another but each one of them stuck out, sharp as a pin.

The one day that stood out the most, though, was the final day of a devastating week. Friday.

A knock on your door caused you to groan as you forced yourself off the couch.

“Is this Ms... L/N?” The man at the door asked. You hummed shortly.

“I have a delivery for you,” he says with a small smile as he places a huge bouquet of your favourite flower on your front door. You thank him as you drag it inside.

You weren’t stupid. You knew it was Charles.

Attached to the flowers was a note. You sighed as you opened it and began reading.

“Y/N,

I promise, none of this was a lie. Well, maybe some of it. But none of it was negative, I swear. It may seem like it was all a lie, but it wasn’t. Everytime I called you my love or told you I love you wasn’t a lie. None of it was. Please give me a chance to explain. I owe you an explanation, please let me do it.

I love you, I swear.

- Charles.”

You sigh once more as you fold up the note, the decision already clear in your mind.

thank you for reading! i hope this was worth it, please don’t be a ghost reader :)

#charles leclerc #f1 #charles leclerc x reader #scuderia ferrari #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc imagine #formula 1 #charles leclerc x you #fanfics

[moonstruckme]

Hey lovely! So I heard you're looking for asks for other than poly!marauders and I love them too, but here's one for tasm!peter parker x shy!reader maybe wherein reader is always saying sorry, like it's second nature to her

like peter gives her the coat she forgotten and she says oh sorry you had to come all the way here, or she was late in one of their dates and she's like sorry I made you wait, one time she notices she was talking too much and says sorry too and peter notices how she does this for everything he does for her and he says, you know, instead of saying sorry, you can say thank you and reader is like what do you mean? and peter is like, I love doing these things for you, you don't have to say sorry, you can say like thank you for waiting for me or thank you for listening to me and he's just so sweet and yeah

love you and your writing as always!

Love you <3

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

You’re waiting when Peter knocks, your bouncing knee rattling your coffee table while your roommate shoots you inscrutable looks out the side of her eye. You hop up at the sound, unlatching the door. 

“Hi.” You smile at him, grabbing a coat from the hook by the door. 

“Hey,” Peter says, mirroring your expression. He looks nice, you think. Well, Peter always looks nice, but tonight he looks all shined up and special. His hair is damp, evidence of comb marks in it, and his shirt looks like he might have actually ironed. You feel sort of honored. He holds up a heap of fabric. “Been missing this?” 

It takes you a second to identify it as your coat. Your favorite coat, which you spent most of the morning looking for. “Yes!” you gasp, reaching to take it from him. “I left it at your place the other day?” He nods, and you shake your head at yourself. “Sorry I stuck you with it, I could have sworn I wore it home.” 

“It’s no problem.” Peter shrugs. “It had warmed up by the time you left, so you probably weren’t thinking about it.” 

“Yeah, I guess.” You shake your head again, putting the substitute coat back on the hook and shrugging this one on. “Anyway, sorry. Are you ready to go?” 

“Yeah.” He steps back to let you out, leading you over to the stairs. “You look really nice,” he says, and you don’t know how he does it, keeping eye contact with you the whole time. Yours drop to your feet. 

“Thanks.” You smile down towards the steps. “So do you.” 

You think you can feel Peter’s grin burning into the side of your head. He changes the subject for your benefit. “You live on a pretty high floor, huh?” 

“Yeah,” you sigh, breaths growing heavier even just descending. “Sorry, I should’ve warned you. You could’ve waited downstairs or something.” 

“Hey, I don’t mind.” He bumps your shoulder lightly with his. “You can’t help if your landlord didn’t spring for an elevator. How’d you find this place?” 

You huff a laugh. “Actually, it’s kind of a weird story.” 

“Ooh, okay.” There’s teasing in Peter’s tone, the kind you’ve come to recognize as his go-to flirting technique. “Now I’ve gotta hear it.” 

“Well, I responded to a post online about this girl looking for a pet sitter…” 

At some point, you work up the courage to look at him while you talk. Peter’s a good listener, nodding at all the right intervals, laughing at the funny parts, brown eyes warm and encouraging. You keep getting distracted by him, but he’ll pull you right back into the story with questions like “So wait, why would she move somewhere her cat wasn’t allowed?” and “It got that attached to you?”. By the time frigid air hits your face, you realize you’ve been talking for eight stories and then some. 

“Oh my gosh, sorry!” you laugh, covering your mouth with your hand. “I can’t shut up, can I?” 

“Don’t be sorry,” Peter tells you, just on this side of chiding. He grabs your hand from in front of your mouth, pulling it with his into his coat pocket and starting down the sidewalk at an amble. “I like hearing you.”

It takes everything in you not to wiggle your fingers in his. You hope you’re not blushing as badly as you feel like you are. “You haven’t gotten a word in since we left my place,” you tell him apologetically.  

“Like that’s such a long time.” He looks down at you, giving your hand a friendly squeeze. “But okay, fine, let’s talk dinner. What do you feel like?”

You shrug. “I’m good with anything.” 

“Perfect,” Peter says enthusiastically, “all my favorite foods are anything!” He grins at you sideways, worse when you roll your eyes. “Now tell me what you want to eat.” 

You blow out a breath, trying not to smile. “I don’t know.” 

“Sure you do,” he says lightly. “Come on. Greek, Mexican, Italian? Just throw it out there.” 

“Fine, maybe not Italian,” you admit, preoccupied with the way his thumb is running over your knuckles inside his coat pocket. “I had that last night. Um, do you like Irani food?” 

Peter makes a quiet humming sound. “Can’t say I’ve tried it. You know anywhere nearby?” 

“Yeah, there’s a place a couple blocks this way,” you say, then backtrack. “But we should get something you already know you like. What do you want to have?” 

“I want to have Irani food.” He grins down at you. “I’m always up for something new.” 

“No, come on.” You slow your pace, forcing him to match it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pick a place only I would like. We should go somewhere else.” 

“I really do want to try it,” Peter says, tone softening slightly. “It sounds good, and I wanna learn the things you like. Come on, sweetheart, let me do this.” He gives your arm a little tug, and reluctantly, you fall into step beside him again. 

“Sorry,” you murmur. 

Peter looks at you sideways. “You apologize a lot, you know that?”

You feel a bit of heat rise to your cheeks despite the chill. “Yeah, I’ve been told.”  

“You don’t have to,” he says conversationally. “I mean, I don’t mind doing this stuff for you. You’ve got nothing to be sorry about.” 

“I know.” 

“Do you?” 

You don’t, really. It feels like he should mind, like he should understand how indebted all these little things make you to him. “I just…want you to know that I know you’re inconveniencing yourself for me, if that makes sense.” You cringe at your awkward wording. “Just, that I’m not taking it for granted.” 

“None of it’s a real inconvenience,” he promises you, giving your hand a little squeeze. “You could always just say thank you.” 

You look up at him, puzzled. “What do you mean?” 

Peter shrugs. “I mean, I love doing things for you,” he says. “I don’t need any thanks, but instead of apologizing for, like, me bringing you your coat, you could just say thank you.” He looks down, giving you a small smile. His brown eyes are warm and gentle. “And then I’d say you’re welcome, and you could stop worrying about it so much.” 

“Oh,” you all but whisper. 

Peter’s patient, giving you the time you need to contemplate this while you walk, but after a minute he says, “Is this the place?” 

You look up to find you’re standing under the sign of your favorite restaurant. “Yeah,” you confirm, and he releases your hand to hold the door open for you. You shoot him a tiny smile. “Thank you.” 

Peter’s grin blows yours out of the water. “You’re welcome,” he replies warmly, following you through the door. His arm wraps around your shoulders, drawing you into his side as he leads you to the host stand. “Attagirl.” 

#tasm!peter parker #tasm!spiderman #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x fem!reader #tasm!peter parker x y/n #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker x self insert #tasm!peter parker fanfic #tasm!peter parker fanfiction #tasm!peter parker fic #tasm!peter parker fluff #tasm!peter parker hurt/comfort #tasm!peter parker drabble #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker blurb #tasm!peter parker scenario #tasm peter parker #tasm spiderman #the amazing spiderman #the amazing spiderman fanfiction

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Balé Bruce taking female readers virginity? It can be headcanon or story. Ty!

Bruce taking your virginity ♡

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A/N: I'm so sorry this took me so long, please forgive me 😭🩷 this is like a weird merge between headcannons and a story lol

《Warnings》: smut (obvi), very sweet and gentle Bruce <3

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

To say he'd be gentle would be an understatement. You'll be treated as absolutely royalty, touches so soft and tender you can barely feel them.

He'd be extremely honored and giddy that you want him to be your first. The fact that you trust him so much despite his reputation makes his heart beat faster and his cock twitch.

It's safe to say he's not a virgin, and boy, does he know what he's doing!!

He'd take you out on a nice date first, most likely a very nice restaurant. Bruce wasn't usually the romantic type when it came to relationships (if you can even call them that) but he loves you, truly loves you, and he wants to make this special for you.

I don't think he'd go the full 9 yards with rose petals and candles, but it's definitely still a very soft and romantic atmosphere.

Bruce would be insistent that you don't have a single sip of alcohol that night. Yes, you've been together for a while, but this is a big step, and he wants to make 10000% sure that this is what you want. No drinks for either of you that night.

So, he'd take you out on a fun night, have you get all dolled up and then drive around with you for a bit, the lights of a Gotham night reflecting in the windows of his very expensive car. Just something to take the edge off.

You're obviously very comfortable around each other, and he's probably seen you naked at one point anyway, but sex is a completely new form of intimacy.

He'd help you undress and place soft kisses on your skin. You'd lay in bed for a while, not completely naked yet, but still very much undressed. Just enjoying each other's company while the flame of lust and desperation slowly grows and grows. Maybe he'd tell you some of his weird or embarrassing sex stories that he (undoubtedly) had at one point just to make you less nervous.

Sex can be messy, clumsy, ungraceful, and sloppy. He wants you to know that there's nothing to be ashamed about and to always voice and concerns or wishes you may have.

He's gently caressing the skin of your arm as you both lay on your sides, facing each other, as you talk about whatever comes to mind. There's a little lamp on in the corner of the room, bathing the room in a soft golden glow.

He can't help but stare in awe as he follows the light reflecting off your features as your lips move. His hand trails lower, settling on stroking your waist, and when he hears you stop talking he searches for any sign of discomfort on your face but is only met with blushed cheeks and your breathing slightly picking up.

Bruce smiles softly and and gently tugs you closer to his chest, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. There are wandering hands, clumsy attempts at keeping your lips connected and the overwhelming urge to just touch. He'd ask you one final time if you're sure about this, that he would stop immediately if you asked him to.

The second you give him the go-ahead, he's almost bursting with excitement. He can't wait to explore this new side of you to figure out what you like and what makes you weak in the knees. His hands explore your body, caressing and teasing your sensitive spots whole his lips are attached to your neck.

He tugs off any remaining garments you had on and makes his way down your stomach, brushing his lips over your soft flesh. And, yes, he will eat you out for your first time (definitely not because he's a munch and has been thinking about this for months) maybe he'd make you come on his tongue, but he doesn't want to overwhelm you so he'll just tease you and rile you up until you're dripping with a fog of pleasure clouding your senses.

He'll gently ease his fingers inside of you one by one, getting you used to the feeling of having something inside of you. He'll switch between holding your hand and circling your clit with his thumb. He watches your face like a hawk for any indication that you're uncomfortable or, god forbid, in any pain.

And if you end up coming around his fingers, that's okay. He didn't really set himself any goals for this, like getting 5 orgasms out of you in 10 minutes or anything like that, he just wants you to feel good and loved.

If you don't come around his fingers, that's okay, too. What happens, happens, what doesn't, doesn't. As long as you're satisfied in the end, he doesn't care.

Expect to get like a thousand kisses and him telling you how much he loves you every second.

Bruce insists on missionary (it's his favorite position, but only with you) because the closeness and intimacy is very important to him during your first time. He will always have a safe word, it'll be just stop most of the time. It's easy to remember because it's the first thing you think of when it gets too much anyway.

Because, let's be honest, you're not gonna remember rhubarb-vanilla crumble or something ridiculous like that.

He's been ignoring his raging hard-on, purely because he just can't take his eyes off you. You look absolutely divine underneath him, your pretty features contorted in bliss. He's already been making mental notes to what really makes you melt. And then the moment finally arrives and he gently pushes himself inside of you, tightly grasping your hand.

Communication is really important to him (not only during sex) so I'm afraid you won't get any kisses until he's 100% sure that you're okay. He needs to hear you loud and clear, whether you want him to slow down, start moving, to angle his hips differently. This is all about you tonight.

But the second he's found a good and steady rhythm and has you mewling with your eyes rolling to the back of your head, he's smashing his lips on yours. Bruce would lay his entire weight on you, chests pressed together because he needs to be closer to you. It's not close enough for him, but it'll have to do.

But don't think this isn't affecting him, sex with love is way different than the hook-ups he had. He's panting like a dog, messy hair and dilated pupils. He's absolutely drowning in pleasure, reaching the deepest parts of you while your fingers are still firmly laced together. He'd be very insistent that you come together (he's probably the one that has to hold himself back) and he'd stroke your clit or suck on your tits, whatever tips you over the edge.

I believe the closer he gets to coming undone, the more incoherent babbles of love spill from his lips. It's all desperate and needy "I love you"s in between moans and groans. There are definitely night where he was more control, but this one is not one of them.

After he's brought you earthshattering bliss, and he tiped over the edge himself (he'd preferably come inside of you, but he wouldn't mind pulling out if that's what you wanted) he'll lay down with you. There's no rush, just the two of you gently coming out of your haze of pleasure.

Bruce can't ever shut up, which makes him the king of pillowtalk. You'll just take for a little while, make sure you're both okay before it's time to clean up and get ready for bed.

Depending on how deep you're into the evening, he'll either gently wipe you down with either a damp towel, make sure you're both getting some water, or he'll straight up pamper you with a full bath. I'm talking candles, bubbles, lots of differently scented soaps, and ,of course, his arms around you.

It's all very intimate and loving with tons of soft kisses to your temples, forehead or lips. After you're dried off, you'll help each other slip into your sleep attire before absolutely knocking out for a good 9 hours and waking up in the loving embrace of your lover with the sun kissing your cheeks.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Hope you liked it, anon! <3

《Tag list》: @allysunny @certifiedredhoodlover @hellonheels-x @gaozorous-rex-blog

Lmk if you want to be added to my DC tag list! (Currently entails Bale!Bruce and Jason Todd)

#bumblebeesfromvenus #bale!bruce x reader #bale!bruce wayne smut #bale!bruce wayne #bale!bruce wayne x reader #bale!batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne smut #dark knight trilogy #nolanverse

[dilfl0v3rss]

this was the eren and reiner fic with a the different ending. i felt like it wasn’t what y’all wanted so i changed it, but if you’re interested in reading it here it is🤷🏽‍♀️

caller blocked

“ian ready for no relationship.” the excuse of excuses. the words that were always thrown your way after you’d try to convince your little “fling” that you wanted to be more. eren stood up, zipping his pants before grabbing his hoodie and heading out your dorm room. your situation was…complicated. well not really. you grew very attached to this man, looking for him at parties, going to every single one of his games, giving him your notes so he wouldn’t fail and get kicked off the team, and letting him fuck you whenever he wanted.

you were practically dating. or that’s what you thought. eren seen you as just another pretty little thing to keep his grades up and his dick wet. using you constantly while labeling it at love to keep you coming back for more. “b-but why ren?” eren dropped his shoulders, sighing before he walked back to you and raised your chin with his fingers. “you know the rules pretty. cant be tied down worrying about a girl during the season. when all of this craziness is over then we can work sum out.”

a smile bloomed on your face as you looked at eren in complete adoration. you couldn’t wait for the season to end so you could finally be with the man you love. your friends seen you as a complete idiot, and they had no problem trying to shut down your delusions. “girl what don’t you get? as soon as the season ends he gon drop you like a bad habit.” “yea he’s lying to you baby.”

you shook your friend as your friends annie and sasha tried to speak some sense into you. “he wouldn’t do that to me. h-he lo-” “he doesn’t love you and m’gonna prove it.” before you could reply annie pulls out her phone, clicking historias instagram story to show you what she posted in her close friends. there eren was, laying his head on her stomach with his arms wrapped around her as the rest of his body laid snug between her legs. the caption reading ‘pussy put his ass to sleep🤣’.

your eyes instantly welled with tears as you watched eren, your eren be with someone else the same way he’d be with you. annie was contemplating telling you for awhile. hoping that you’d come to your senses on your own without having to get hurt, but she just couldn’t hold it in anymore. “why would he-” “because historias dumber than a bag of rocks and she doesn’t mind sucking and fucking a dick that’s been in half the campus.” sasha spit.

annie wiped your tears with a napkin from her purse before standing up with you on the quad bench. “fuck him furreal. there’s so many guys that have been tryna get at you, but you’ve been oblivious to them because of eren.” you nodded your head, acting as if you were agreeing but you were really heartbroken. the three of you said your goodbyes and you went back to your room. tears flooded your pillowcase as you thought about what you had just witnessed.

you were being played, but you weren’t about to just let it go. deciding that one day you’ll get your revenge, but right now you wanted nothing to do with him. weeks went by since you’ve last talked to eren. he wasn’t suspicious of it since he’d usually only talk to you when he needed something anyways. covering up his actions with “practice” to keep you from pestering him.

as annie said, a lot of guys have tried to get at you and instead of shooting them down like you usually did, you gave one a chance. you and reiner have gotten pretty close over the last few weeks. texting almost everyday, eating lunch together, and sharing your favorite books with each other in the library as you studied. he was sweet and charming.

always paying for your lunch no matter how many times you’ve tried to return the favor, walking you all the way to your dorm after a particularly late study sesh, and holding your hand when the two of you would cross the street. he mostly did that for his enjoyment, but you didn’t mind.

the two of you weren’t dating, but many people thought you were, given that one was barely seen without the other. “where’s your boo suge.” sasha would say when you finally hung out with your girls after three long weeks. “hush uppp. we just talking.” annie, sasha, and pieck busted out laughing before pieck leaked some information to you.

“girl you know we seen you getting your back blown out in the back of his jeep right?” your hands flew to your mouth as you gasped in shock. “yupp. saw him pulling your hair and allat right in our dorm parking lot.” sasha said as you covered your face in embarrassment before mumbling into your hands. “ooouuu yall so nosey i could strangle all three of you right now.” annie scoffed as she pulled your arms from your face.

“you think we’re dumb? you’ve been ditching us every chance you got. and when you do decide to finally hang out with us for a little, you come with a bunch hickies and a pimp walk.” all of you laughed at her last comment. rolling your eyes before checking your phone. speak of the devil.

rei🌻

‘got everything ready for movie night!’

‘waiting on you now mama💛’

you looked up from your phone, instantly getting pissed looks from your friends. “don’t even say nun. go be wit your man. enjoy it too because this weekend you all OURS. you hear me?” you giggled as you stood from your spot on sasha’s beanbag chair. “i hear youuu. love yallll!!” each of your friends replied with “love you toos” before you left to go spend time with reiner.

“aight i got nightmare on elm street and i got fri-” “princess and the frog” reiner chuckled as you looked up at him. sitting on his bed in nothing but his t shirt that you changed into as soon as you got there. “we watched that last time princess. you said you’d let me switch it up.” pink lip jutting out in a pout at he looked at you with sad eyes.

you laughed, watching this huge man with black ink dancing around his arms and chest being such a softy for you. his sweatpants hanging low on his hips as he situated himself under you on the bed. “okay then coco. i love un poco locoooo” a groan flew from his lips as he rolled his eyes at your choices. “no more disney. if i hear another song ima rip my ears off.”

the two of you ended up settling on john wick, but that didn’t really matter since it was thirty minutes into the movie where you found yourself plopping up and down on his thick dick. big veiny hand holding the back of your neck while his other arm was squeezing your ass. “how ya feeling princess.”

your moans flew directly into reiners ear as your hands gripped the pillow next to his head. “s-so good papa. real good.” his pace slowed as he started putting more of his inches into you. your hands flew to his hair, stroking and pulling his blonde crown with your eyes closed tightly. “that’s what i like to hear. love making my pretty girl feel good.” you were so out of it you didn’t even notice that reiners hand was no longer on your ass. instead he was texting your ex fling on your phone.

ren ren💚

‘yo. you up?’

he seen the name pop up and instantly got heated, knowing what he’s done to you. he grabbed the device without thinking as he made quick work to delete his number before replying.

you

‘yea what’s up?’

347-***-****

‘miss you mama🤧’

‘let me pull up on you’

‘the nerve of this guy’ reiner thought as a quick idea came up into his head. he quickened his strokes, laying the phone on the bed as the phone dialed erens number. “o-o-ooouuu rei you feel so good.” a smirk crept onto his face. “i feel good pretty girl?” you nodded your head, whining after you felt a hard slap to your ass. the sound bouncing off the walls as his one hand took up lots of space on your asscheek.

“use those words mama. like when you talk t’me.”

“y-you feel so g-good daddyyyy” reiner looked up at you in adoration before connecting his lips with yours in a sloppy kiss. smacking sounds ringing loud in the air as he practically devoured you. reiner glanced back at the phone to see that eren had hung up, a bunch of texts popping up as he scrolled through each of them.

347-***-****

‘wyd y/n?’

‘man you so lame for that fr’

‘how you just gon give my pussy away like that?’

‘he never gon be able to fuck you like i do’

‘cmon baby don’t pass up a relationship with me for braun…’

‘i swear i’ll never text historia again’

‘she could never amount to you ong baby’

‘baby?’

‘text me back y/n :(‘

‘at least still study with me…historia’s so dumb i’ll get kicked off the team fasho’

*caller blocked*

reiner threw your phone to the side before laying you on you your back. pulling out of you before moving his head towards your pussy. his pink lips wrapped around your clit before licking up and down your middle. “all mine right baby?” his green eyes met your brown ones. the two of you staring deeply into each other before you nodded you head slowly.

“all yours”

#aot x black reader #reiner x black!reader #reiner x black reader #reiner x black y/n #reiner smut #reiner braun x black!reader #reiner braun x black reader #reiner braun x black y/n #reiner braun smut #aot reiner x black reader #aot reiner x black!readee #aot reiner x black y/n #aot reiner braun x black reader #aot reiner braun x black!reader #aot reiner braun x black y/n #aot reiner smut #aot reiner braun smut

[joshs-big-toe]

you HAVE to write a fic of billy from burn, i beg youusdjfsudfjskdksad

A Quickie to Relax

Heyyyyyy. Again, sorry this took so long. My winter break kinda sucked and I just had no motivation to do anything. I am finally back at it, and have more motivation and yeah thank you for being patient with me! I have another fic coming after this as a little present, so be ready for a Derek Danforth fic! There is going to be an overflow of those coming. Anyways, I love you all who support me and I hope this story lives up to some of my others!

CW: smut, f!reader, oral sex (fem receiving), p in v, dom!billy, semi-rough sex, mentions of firearms(promise that aspect has nothing to do with the sex)

Word Count: 1,505

“Come on Billy, I don't think this is a good idea,” you mumbled as he parked outside of what seemed like an abandoned gas station. The night was cold, an eerie tone filled the air as rain sprinkled down from the cloud-ridden sky. Billy turned to you, setting his jaw in place.

“Y/N, you know the shit I’m in? You said you would do this with me, why are you backing out now?”

“I just…” you hesitated for a moment, thinking before you spoke next. “I just think we may be… Lowballing it with a gas station that looks abandoned.” His face lit up from headlights of a car pulling into the closest gas pump. His eyes showed an emotion you weren’t able to quite put your finger on. You out your hand on his cheek, running your thumb along his cheek bone. “I love you, Billy, but this is fucking stupid. Why can’t we just get out of here, run away and forget about those stupid bikers?” He turned his head away from your touch, a visible frustration setting into his expression. 

“You… You don’t get it, y/n. They’ll kill me if I dont get them that money, you fucking understand that right?” He stared at the front doors of the gas station. “I can’t not do this,” he turned his head to look at you. You stared back into his eyes, wavering concern covering your face. He shook his head. “y/n-”

“Billy, I can’t do this. I think we should just drive and start over-” 

“No, y/n, no!” he shouted, hitting the steering wheel. You jumped, his eyes darting toward you, seeing the obvious discomfort that him shouting gave you. “Jesus, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He grumbled.

You hesitantly lean over the seat, pulling his chin to look at you. “Let me,” you mumble, bringing him closer, your lips grazing against his as you spoke. “Let me help you out there, Billy, maybe clear your mind a little?” You felt him shift in his seat, sighing against your lips before you pressed yours against his. Your eyes fluttered shut, the feeling of his hand resting on the back of your head taking you by surprise. His tongue pushed into your mouth, you groaning at the sensation. He deepened the kiss, pulling you closer to him, his breathing becoming more erratic as the seconds passed. You groaned as his free hand groped over your tits, the heat filling your core with arousal. 

“Get in the back,” he growled. “Now.” You didn’t hesitate, stumbling over the center console and falling onto the back seat. You giggled as he followed suit, landing on top of you, crashing his lips into yours again. His mouth parted slightly, giving you the chance to push your tongue into his mouth, making him groan against you. He pulled you down to where your back was laying against the back seat. “I need,” he panted, fumbling with your jeans. “Need to get this shit off.” You bit your lip as you watched him unzip your jeans, swiftly slipping them off. He looked at you with a hungry expression. You smirked, opening your legs wider for him. “I can see,” he mumbled as he got lower down, his hot breath touching your core. You shuddered as he hooked his finger around your panties, pulling them to the side. “I can see how wet you already are.” His tongue attached to your clit, a low groan escaping his lips. Your back arched as he moved his tongue into your opening, tongue-fucking you. You grabbed his hair, tugging at it softly. A soft moan escaped your lips as you leaned your head back, bumping against the door. 

“Fuck, Billy,” you managed out. His actions became quicker. He grabbed at your thighs, running his nails down them. You moaned, pushing himself onto as much as you could, pushing your thighs against the side of his head. You felt the heat building in your lower belly as Billy attached his tongue to your clit again, relentlessly sucking and nipping on it. His hands grabbed at your hips, borderline suffocating himself as he pushed you further onto his face. He pressed his lips against your clit, sending you over the edge, your body jolting as waves of pleasure ripped from you. Billy did not wait long before sitting up in the seat, unzipping his jeans and pulling them down enough for him to take his cock out, spitting on his hand and stroking himself a couple times before pulling you onto him. His grip on your hips tightened as he pushed into you, giving you a moment to adjust to his size. A hit of frustration hit your mind at the lack of being able to see him, not to mention sucking his dick. You moan as he stretched you out, your head falling onto his shoulder. He began to rock your hips against him. Tremors of pleasure ran through you with the friction of your clit rubbing on his pubic bone. 

“Fucking so wet for me,” Billy mumbled into your ear. “You know just how to take care of me when I get worked up, huh?” He was breathless, but did not stop his own movements of pushing his hips up onto you. You whined at the aggression that was hidden in his movements, but fuck you loved seeing this side of him. He removed a hand from your hip, bringing it up to hair, pulling you back to you could look at him. His nose and cheeks were a shade of red and his mouth was slightly open. “Look at you, all fucked out already and I haven’t even gotten to cum.” You began to speed up your movements, making him suck in a breath of air before letting out a loud groan as he leaned his head back onto the seat. 

“B-Billy-” you moaned out. His movements were sloppy as he trailed sloppy kisses down your neck. 

“Y/n, oh fuck y/n youre so fucking good,” he breathed out. “You take my cock so fucking well, such a good fucking girl.” Heat rose up in you again as you felt his dick twitch inside you, telling you he was close too. He pulled your head back by your hair as you grinded on him, attaching his lips to your neck and sucking at a sensitive spot that send you over the edge. You didnt get much chance to ride your orgasm out before he pushed you off of him. “Fuck,” he groaned, grabbing his cock squeezing it. “Put that pretty mouth of yours to use, now wouldja?” You contorted your body to where you were holding onto him. He grabbed your hair, turning it into a makeshift ponytail, pushing you down onto him. He threw his head back as he stuffed your mouth, thrusting up into you, abusing your throat. You groaned onto him, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. He was so fucking big, but you liked the rough treatment he had with you. Without warning, he held you down onto his cock, the tip pushing against your throat making you gag. He groaned, body confusing as you felt him cum. You took it all, not wanting any to escape your mouth. You pulled off of him, gasping for air. He grabbed your face in his hands, looking you over for a moment. He wiped the tears that fell from your eyes. “Was that too much?” His aggression had turned to concern in an instant. You shook your head, getting your breathing back to mostly normal. 

“H-hot,” you managed out. He smiled, grabbing your jeans off the floor of the back seat, helping you back into them before planting a kiss on your forehead. You watched him pull his jeans back up, buttoning them before reaching into the front seat and grabbing his backpack. 

“Are you ready?” He smiled, clearly less stressed than he was before. 

“You are positive that this is going to be okay?” He reached into the bag, pulling out a gun and tossing it over to you. You looked at him, eyes wide. “What the fuck is this, Billy?”

“It’s not loaded, don't worry. If they feel threatened, they are more likely to comply. You groan, stepping out of the car and tucking the gun into the back of your jeans. You threw your jacket on, thankfully covering the bulk of the gun. You shook your head, looking at Billy over the hood of his car. 

“You are literally so stupid for this, you know.” 

“It’s life or death.”

“Or 5 years in prison.”

“Well, I guess.” He shrugged, shutting the car door and walking behind the car, planting a kiss on your cheek when he approached you. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” You took a deep breath, putting your hands in your jacket pockets as you closely trailed Billy, following him into the gas station to go through with your plan.

#josh hutcherson #josh futterman #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt imagine #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson smut #billy burn #billy burn x reader #derek danforth #derek danforth smut #peeta x reader #thg peeta #josh futturman smut #josh hutcherson x reader