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beatificwrites · 10 months

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HIDDEN WANTS ★

pairing: hobie brown x gn!spider!reader

content: gender-neutral reader, no use of y/n

premise: you and hobie are completely unaware of the undeniable tension between you two and the feelings you carry for one another

It was yet another ordinary day at the spider society which consisted of: small breakfast with your spidey friends, taking care of anomalies, possibly being lectured by miguel for being too reckless, lunch with spidey friends, and sometimes more anomalies to take care of afterwards or none at all.

You took out a box of frozen pizza from the fridge and got a plastic plate from the cupboard above it. You were in the food lounge, as everyone liked to call it—the place had no official name though, it was just a room where food was kept if you didn’t want cafeteria food. You threw the cold slices in the microwave and set it for 3 minutes.

You were preparing yours and Hobie’s lunch for the day. He never brings his own lunch and just steals from your plate, so recently you started bringing enough for the two of you to eat.

You sensed a presence behind you, trying to go unnoticed and instantly knew it was him.

“You know that I know you’re there, right?” you crossed your arms, and asked matter of factly.

“Yeh, just tryna see if your senses are back in check, dat’s all.” he teased.

He’s referring to last week when your senses seemed off because you didn’t notice the huge boulder being thrown your way. Hobie had to save you last minute and now he will never live it down, he loves annoying you.

You rolled your eyes and groaned, “just shut up already! It was one time, for crying out loud!”

He chuckled and moved up to stand beside you as you watched the pizza slices slowly spin behind the glass. He was awfully close, and that fact conjured a bit of nervousness with a hint excitement. You don’t exactly know why you always felt the latter whenever he was near, therefore you always write it off as being happy that a friend was in your company.

The aggressive beeping coming from the microwave pulled you out of your thoughts and you quickly took out the steaming slices, then handed the plate over to Hobie, knowing he would want the first bite. Your friendship has reached a point where one usually knows what the other wants.

Hobie smiled then gladly took that first bite while you shook your head jokingly. You both walked out of the lounge and through the halls filled with spideys all over the place. Hobie’s arm was now casually hanging over your shoulder as he chomped away at his slice with his other hand. You were now holding the plate and aimlessly leaning against him as you two made your way to the cafeteria where the rest of your friends were.

“Ew, dude, you smack so loud!” you remarked as jabbed him with your elbow.

“Literally chew like dis everyday, bruv. Besides, nothing compares to your obnoxious sippin’.” he replied with a sneer, before returning to his smacking.

“Oh, ha-ha, right like I’m the slob!” you said sarcastically.

You two finally reached your table and your friends—gwen, miles, and pavitr—merely watched as you both laughed with each other and sat down with Hobie’s arm still thrown over your shoulder, completely oblivious to how you both looked from an outside perspective.

“Uh…do they see themselves?” miles whispered.

“I don’t think they’re aware…” gwen whispered back.

“Are they not already together?!” pavitr whisper-yelled.

“Wassup, mandem.” Hobie greeted.

When you grabbed your slice, you looked up at your friends for the first time. “Why are you guys so being quiet?” you asked, confused.

Gwen acted as if her mouth was filled with food and Miles and Pavitr copied her immediately, even adding a few extra finger licks here and there. Gwen covered her mouth before saying, “we already started eating that’s why.”

“Mmh, yeah, I was really getting into this bacon sandwich right here! Right, Pav?” Miles asked with an awkward smile.

“Totally, man!” Pavitr replied, too enthusiastic.

“Okay…” you chucked at their weirdness, then followed up with, “So, how was your first mission, Miles?”

“Light-work, needed no help at all! I don’t know why Miguel was acting like I was gonna screw the whole thing up.” he responded with a shrug.

“Except that you did need help and couldn’t do it all alone on your first try…” Gwen chimed in.

“I hardly see how that’s relevant.” Miles clapped back.

You were trying to listen and eat at the same time, but Hobie’s head laying against your shoulder made the endeavor a little challenging. You were still eating, though his weight now on you was all you could focus on.

In Hobie’s mind, he appreciated the closeness and carelessness towards touch you guys carried in your relationship because he could lean against you or hold you close all he wanted without it seeming like he viewed you as more than a friend. It was a great way to mask his ever-growing crush on you, along with the occasional teasing flirts that he could play off as jokes.

“You got some sauce on your face, lad.” he commented before gently wiping off tomato sauce from the corner of your mouth with the side of his thumb. You stayed put as soon as you felt his touch on your face. You thanked him with a smile before resuming to your almost finished slice. Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr just shook their heads at each other.

“You lot doin’ anythin’ tonight?” Hobie asked the group.

“Nope, I—Yeahhhh, gonna be super busy with my aunt Maya back at home!” Pavitr explained once Gwen slightly nudged him.

“Yeah, I gotta help my mom with…work…stuff! And gwen’s helping me!” Miles added.

“Alright, then...you free?” Hobie asked as he looked up at you.

“Um, yeah, got nothing planned for the rest of the day.”

“Another jam sesh at my place?”

“I’m down!” you exclaimed.

“Coo’, let’s go after dis!” he said before suddenly grabbing your pizza crust and stuffing it in his mouth.

“Hey! I wanted that!” you bemoaned.

“Too bad.” he said, almost inaudibly, with a smirk.

“You repay my kindness with still stealing my food?!”

“Deal with it.” he stated playfully.

You abruptly placed him in a headlock and he started to yelling “tap out, tap out” before swiftly pulling your arm over his head and going straight for a tickle attack. Once you felt the funny tingle on your neck you began to squirm around and laugh out loud. Hobie laughed to himself quietly at the escalation of events, but paused at the hearty sound of your laughter. You sounded sweet.

“At this point we’re 5th wheeling...” Miles sighed.

“Yeah, if we leave we’ll go unnoticed.” Gwen added.

Pavitr was mumbling to himself incessantly before finally shouting, “when are you two going to ask each other out?! You’re driving us all nuts!”

The whole table was now silent and a few spideys around the area looked over.

You and Hobie looked at one another, and simultaneously went, “huh??”

“Huh? What do you mean ‘huhhh?’ ! You guys are always so immersed in each other, you’re practically dating!!” Pavitr went on.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Pav. We’re just friends!” you defended.

“You two act like a couple and every-spider here can see that!” he explained further.

“Hey, lovebirds! I got a proposition for both of you.” Peter B. Parker appeared out of nowhere.

“See?!!!” Pav stressed.

“Oh.” Hobie just said.

“Well…that’s how we are with each other! Super close! There’s nothing going on here.”

“Yeah, what they said.” Hobie agreed.

“You two actually make a great power couple! You’re like the stereotypical punk-rock duo.” Gwen mid-joked.

───────── ☆

That was five hours ago, and now you two are in Hobie’s band room playing together. No real song was being played, but you and him liked to mess around and improvise new sounds. Him on guitar and you on drums. You twirl the sticks like a natural and change rhythms from time to time and Hobie’s fingers glide adeptly across his chords as he harmonizes with you.

This was one of your favorite pastimes because it’s how you and Hobie bonded at first; when you found out he played guitar you shared that you knew how to play drums and there was an instant connection.

He was already interested in you because of your unique fighting style even though you two shared about the same abilities. You thought his dope way of dressing and punk attitude was enough to reel you in, however music brought your spirits together and a beautiful friendship had blossomed as a result.

Beneath the teasing moments and oblivious public displays of affection, lay Hobie’s mind constantly debating whether or not he should casually admit he likes you, but his never ending fear of possibly ruining your friendship, if you reject him, ultimately wins the debate in the end and he shrugs his feelings off.

It’s moments like these, when you play together, that he takes the time to appreciate your company and steal a few glances at your face. Hobie would strike his chords and try to look at you without being noticed at first, but realized he could stare at you for longer because you would be deeply immersed in your playing. You were just so precious, he thought.

Unbeknownst to him, you did the same, though you struggled far more because you were forced to look down. Every chance you got, you’d instantly look up and take a second to revel in his coolness and cuteness while he played. You struggled more this time because your mind was tasked with a serious decision it needed to make.

“I think we should take a break. My hands are getting tired.” you stretched and cracked your fingers.

“Good idea.” he chugged the last bit of water left in his bottle, then chucked it into a bin.

He carefully laid his guitar against its stand and you placed down your sticks. He followed behind you out the room and into his small living space. You threw yourself onto his couch with a yawn and he did the same, then positioned himself so that his head was leaning on yours.

“You know, I thought a lot about what Gwen and Pav said eariler, and I actually do think we would make a great power couple. In a cool way, you know?“ you suggested with a light chuckle.

“I think we’d make a cute couple in general.” Hobie teased, half-jokingly.

“That too.” you immediately agreed.

Your confidence was through the roof all of the sudden and the urge to tell Hobie the truth about how you’ve felt for months was dying to acted upon. You knew the stakes were high, but you couldn’t deal with hiding your personal, inner thoughts any longer.

His eyes slightly widened, he was taken aback. “Wait, huh?”

“Well, yeah, now that I think about it…they were right. We do make a power couple because of our hero identities, we act like a couple, and it only helps that I like you too.” you confessed.

“You bein’ for real?” he turned to eye you and search for any hint of teasing.

“Gosh, yes, Hobie I really like you okay?! I want to be with all the time, swing around London with you always, watch our favorite movies, and make music! I don’t want to leave your side. You’re all I want.” you spilled out.

You watched Hobie nervously and fidgeted with your fingers as you waited for his mouth to form the anticipating words. You were honestly a little scared; the ‘idgaf’ attitude left as soon as it came and now you don’t actually know what he’ll respond with.

Hobie finally picked up his mouth and admitted, “I hate watching you go because I always want you to stay, love. I don’t like gettin’ all sentimental, howeva you make being vulnerable a whole lot easier. I want all of my time to be consumed by you and I would like everyone to know how much I care for you, so…I really like you too.”

Relief, bliss, and watery eyes were all jabbing you at once. You exhaled a breath you were unaware of holding, processed the fact that Hobie—your best friend—just admitted he liked you back, and his extremely sweet words were going to stupidly make you cry.

He gave you a warm smile, then brought you in for a tight hug. “Aww, don’t be such a sap.” he joked before stroking your back as you began to sniff.

“I was so worried you didn’t feel the same, Hob! I was preparing to say goodbye!” you lightly sniffed.

“I like you, alright? I love everythin’ about you. I love bein’ around you, listenin’ to your pointless rants, mockin’ you at every opportunity, but what I love most about you is your understanding of me. I appreciate you like no other and I want you to know that, even though I got a weird way of showin’ it.” he went on, running his hands above your undershirt.

“Gosh, you’re so sweet when you want to be, Hobie. You’re so cute for that.” you professed just seconds before taking advantage of your newfound confidence once more and pecking his lips.

Now, Hobie was physically taken aback and wasn’t sure where was appropriate for him to place his hands. You giggled at his dumbfounded state, him not knowing how to one up you this time. You kissed him again.

“For pete’s sake, you’re gonna turn me real soft!” he complained while laughing. “Give me another.”

“With pleasure!” you beamed, then kissed the rest of his face.

───────── ☆

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tribulatedray · 2 years

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SIZZURP

A vibe I enjoy matching Bitter taste. . . but smooth. Considerate enough to coat your throat. It welcomes me. It cares. A good host who makes me warm and relaxed.

#syrup #freeform #free form #lyric #workshop #sippin on some sizzurp #lean #09/14/2021

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cu7ie · 11 months

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ (✪㉨✪) beasts of burden.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀▚▚▚▚▚▚⠀⠀when the pet aims to become the master! ▚▚▚▚▚▚

⠀⠀⠀⠀cw; non-con / dub - con ! reader owns hybrids like how you might own pets. rough groping, clothes ripping, sexual aggression. no specific gender or genitals mentioned. hybrid! characters x human reader. REALLY LONG POST. (5k+)

Shepherd!Shinichiro is full-grown when you meet him. The dog you pictured taking home with you wasn’t anything like Shinichiro. He’s too tall. Sheds too much (you sat down with a black shirt and stood up with a coat) gets so excited squirreling around with his friends that he nearly stampedes you.

But he’s the one you leave with. He’s the one who’s papers you’re signing your name all over. The one who’s collared and dutifully walking in step with you back to your apartment. The one you chose to love.

He’s not shy; not necessarily forth-coming either, but he respects you enough. Wipes his feet on the mat when he comes in, doesn’t chew up your furniture and sits on the first try every time. You’d never owned a hybrid before. And with Shinichiro’s specific breed, you’re even less certain about his disposition; though his excitement and his happy licks and demand for head rubs is giving you a good feeling. You do your research sparingly in the upcoming weeks, scrolling down google with one hand,

The other threaded affectionately in Shinichiro’s hair.

A few more weeks pass, and Shinichiro’s thin shell cracks under the weight of your relentless affections. You’re touchier than any owner he’s ever had.

He doesn’t know how to express to you, this coiling snake in his belly - roiling hellfire whenever you stroke under his chin, pat him playfully on his cheek and drag your hand up and down his tummy -

You don’t notice (or pretend not to) the tent he’s pitching in his shorts. He’s wheezing and you won’t stop rubbing. Your eyes are glued to his, sip-sippin’ up his ambrosia; enthusiasm, utter joy, laughter so strained it sounds painful.

You’re a good boy. Such a good, good boy. You whisper to him. And he’s whining - whining so loud and he can’t help himself, he just can’t help it.

And when he bites you, you are shocked. You choke on your praises. Surprise leaves you deafened and petrified, and you are being pulled by your hand up up into Shinichiro’s sharp and eager grasp before you can dissuade him with a firm ‘bad boy’. He feels you up.

(He only seen you. In parts, never all at once or for very long. Steam fogs up your mirror when you shower and there was always something peculiar about that depressingly gelid draft, rising goose pimples in your skin despite the warm shower. He’s looking, then, and looking at night. He’s supposed to be sleeping beside your bed, but he worms his way beneath your covers. Breathes so close to your face that your eyelids twitch in your sleep.

You’re warmer than any human he’s ever met. Your laughter crisp in the space behind his eyes. Everything’s so quiet now - but it’s like he can hear you so clearly, moaning quietly and,

So perfect. All his.)

He forgets how fragile humans are at the best of times. His nails - which you’ve been meaning to trim, he’s just too excited sometimes - scrape along your skin from your waist and down to your hips, etching in crescents whenever he grabs you firm. You squeal, mousy eyed and meek handed, pushing firmly against Shinichiro’s chest. He only leans into you more. Eyes softened with adoration and love, resolve sharpened to a blade’s edge as he licks his lips like you’re something that ought to be devoured.

He can tell there’s something that’s making you uncomfortable. His cock is stiff in his boxers - he’s sure you can feel it, how much he loves you too - and he’s staring like he can’t believe you’re real; but he doesn’t wager either of those things are the reason why you’re quiet. You’re new to this. Never been bred before; he deduces from the apprehension in your gaze. He strokes your cheek, like you’d done once before to comfort him. Like he’s telling you not to worry, as your shorts tear and buttons pop off. As he flips you over and fixes your positioning, raises your hips so when he curls over your back they’re raised to his, you fidget. You spasm, you squirm, jerkily moving your hands to support your weight as you attempt dislodging his grip from your hips.

“No! Bad boy! Bad dog! Shinichiro!-” He grinds his dick against you with pent-up aggression, carnal fervor that slides along your back and drags something sticky along with it.

There are hearts in his eyes. If he wasn’t holding your head down, you might’ve been able to see them.

⠀⠀⠀⠀₍⑅ᐢ›ﻌ‹ᐢ₎⚟

Kitty!Izana doesn’t live in a shelter. If he did once, then he recalls it with no fondness, taken to lying with shadows like any other discarded piece of trash. He’s a bit fleabitten and mangy, to be expected from a backwater alley cat. Nobody pays him mind as long as he relegates himself to dark corners; sticks to swiping things from beneath unsuspecting strangers’ noses and desiring little more for himself. Not one familiar place to him anymore; and he had no business being in any place a human called home. So he lets himself fester. Allows resentment to pry open his chest and live there, congealing in his open wounds, choking a withered heart. And for a long while, he knows no comfort beyond that of his own thoughts.

You just finished signing your lease agreement, and should be finished moving in before the end of the week. An optimistic estimate. All your boxes remain packed, stacked into several towers and sorted by importance. Memorabilia, your tankobon collection, tapestries and vases and the rest of your life in sturdy cardboard containers. The area is .. okay. Not the cleanest, or most well lit at night, or even the safest feeling, (you feel like something’s stabbing you with its eyes. Slithering up your neck, a snake-) but well within your budget - and the landlord is just the sweetest older man. He checks up on you often. Doesn’t have many restrictions or rules; no loud music playing, no smoking ( or more reasonably — no cigarette butts on the steps,) and absolutely no hybrids. So when you happen upon those yellow beady eyes in the alleyway, the vague rumble of hunger that squeezes your heart before the specter bounds behind the safety of the refuse,

You aren't sure about your angle of attack. On one hand, he's despondent. Doesn't believe in your kindness, hisses at your handouts and leaves your arm beat up and gouged out on more than one occasion. He's just nervous, you think, slicing tuna, flattening and molding rice into sheets that you roll up and slice into pieces. He'll come around, one day.

He just has to. It's getting colder. Autumn is cut short by the blizzarding winds of winter, and Izana grows desperate. A human's persistence always feels like the cure to all problems. That's probably what you think - with your pretty eyes and your dumb little fucking human brain and -

Yes, he does eat the food you give him, because it's fresh and he's starving, and he takes the coat you 'were going to throw away' (you shove it into his hands, for him to keep,) because it'd be a shame it'd go to waste. Not because he likes you. Not because he appreciates you. In fact, you might just be the bane of his existence.

(You make him hurt. Unlike any pain from being kicked or having bricks thrown at his ribs. Worse than the cigarettes that have burnt permanent ash into his fur. He doesn't need you. Doesn't want to want you. So this feeling, that butterflies his lungs and crackles his ribs and has him looking away whenever you fix him with those cloyingly pitying eyes,

It must be hatred. Must be disgust. He is unwilling to rationalize it as anything else. Sometimes he'll climb the fire escape when he learns your specific apartment, sees your head sticking out the window one day to move your potted plants inside when it gets too too cold out; lingering in the dank fetid air of the alleyway, maps you out and keeps his notes for a rainy day. You see him, try to lure him in with food and promises of affection and play and toys. He's gotten less aggressive, willing to compromise at least. Doesn't hiss when you wave him good mornings, doesn't claw at the air and bite your wrist when you scratch him behind the ear. It's only been a few months. You don't seek your landlord's ire (you're not sure he could handle a surprise, let alone find out you're hosting for strays) but you trust that Izana could keep a secret if you can. He's mostly quiet in your interactions and that doesn't change much once he's inside. He isn't reciprocal with affections, doesn't pay you much mind in your own house, but is harmless and docile when pampering is involved. He's butter over warm toast, melting and purring as warm water washes over him in - oh, you don't even know how long.

It's unlike him regardless.

(He's hurting again. It's dull and throbbing in his lungs, cold and piercing and fierce; you caressing his cheek, the water pooled around him. He's not drowning but he's full of something and he despises the sensation, but leans further and further into your hand-)

You rinse dirt from out of his hair, decay from behind his ears, scrub the loneliness from his skin.

(You're so focused. His anxiety worms its way to his stomach and buried itself, the seed to which your affection tends; the unknown, the unusual inspires his fear. Is your betrayal imminent? There seems to be no ruse in your ministrations, but his heart pounds at the thought. You wring out the cloth you used to clean him and tell him he can stand before leaving the room. You can't see him. He will use that to his advantage.)

Your back is turned as you rummage through your closet for an extra towel. You remembered grabbing one, though it makes sense your mind could have been going - oh shoot. Did you tell Izana to wait for you in the bathroom? You spin around so fast you sway in your spot for a bit, stomping towards the bathroom, towel in hand.

But he's not there. Wet footprints lead you to your living room, but he's not there either. He's a bit soft pawed, the slippery kind of feline you presume. So the hunt marches along. Not under the kitchen table, under the couch, near the window or the front door. He didn't go back to the bathroom. Your mounting confusion is the first thing he notices when you walk back in your room. Your face; it's pretty. Which becomes a revolting conclusion as soon as it's realized, but he can't take it back, can't unthink it. Humans are not beautiful. But maybe you are? He's under your bed, by the way. You see the pale yellow eyes as a surprisingly strong hand curls around your ankle firmly - and tugs. The world falls around you and you raise your head so your shoulders hit the floor before you get a concussion; aching and holding up the towel shield against a very wet, a little dusty Izana.

"Buddy. What's up with all the rabble rousing? I was gonna towel you off and we were gonna be all cool-" Your voice lurches as he tosses the towel wayward, forcing you to bare witness to his lean physique, his tail curling around your leg as he leans up and,

His cock is throbbing. So hard, pre leaking from the ruddy tip, as it sticks up and out like an offensive gesture. It's ribbed with nub-like bumps, blunt and odd and menacing. You whine and try to gain leverage with your legs, attempting to kick and wriggle your way out from beneath him. Dead weight. He does not budge. He does look a little impatient now though; terse like you've been the one wasting his time.

"Human." He croaks, placing his hand on your shoulder and scooting further up your chest, his cock head kissing your lips. You whimper.

"Lick it."

⠀⠀⠀⠀ʚ₍⑅ᐢ.ﻌ.ᐢ₎ɞ

Lab!Manjirou was the one nobody wanted. Hybrid kennels are rough, and most owners don't know how to dress up and play pretend. He's not doing much when you first start working there, determined to make a home out of this hell. He didn't trust your commitment. Wary of most humans in his day to day, he doesn't aim to keep an eye out for them. Mostly lounging around with the other hybrids, aimless and picking fights with the biggest guys and scaring all the little kids with the big eyes and burning glares, whooping and hollering and barking through metal fences. Your patience is effortless. You assign your 'pack mates' (employees, you later explain) tasks; maintain the kennels and the play spaces and the feeding and walking times, while you see to Manjirou's personal retraining program. He's a good fella at heart, you know that; just a little bit of a lack of focus is all. Preoccupied with his own thing to his own detriment. You begin with teaching him how to listen. He often doesn't bother with humans; preferring the ravings of his hybrid friends as opposed to human conversation and commands. You're not his boss and you don't try to be. What you are though, is his caretaker. He ought to listen to the people trying to help him - and you don't get it, because you've never been in his position before - so maybe your first lesson doesn't go over too well with him. Maybe he stops paying you attention for the next couple days, bleeding into the next week.

Maybe he just doesn't want to listen to a word you say. And that's fine. You guess you could be okay with that.

(But he did listen. Listened to every word that fell from your lips like it'd be the last thing he'd ever hear, felt your heartbeat as you started to feel unsure of yourself; smiled dumbly at how easy you fluster. You are trying. He saw it. As real as stars in the night, as certain as sunrise. And maybe he commends you for that, but he mostly dreams of your pretty mouth and how bright a future could be with you in it.

He doesn't talk to you because it doesn't make him feel cool. The others keep pulling his leg, jaunting and ribbing and getting under his skin; and while he hates being serious, he hates being made to look a fool more. So he stands and lets you hit, pick up a card, play.

You try again. And again. And again. Burning away his resolve. He is abrasive. He drags his feet, turns his head the other way. Doesn't take you seriously.

But you are firm. Your voice never wavers. Manjirou, don't you want to be a good boy for me?

He dips his nose into your palm, and you wonder if dogs know how to keep promises.)

You make progress with the pups and kittens and think you're making something out of yourself when the first month under your management comes to a close. The kennel has taken root and grown into something of a home. Massive fronds that keep the hybrids safe in and intruders out, a wealth of life inside like a fresh breath of air; colors pulled right from a painter's palette, vivid and buzzing and delightful all around. He almost hates his quickly it feels like you forget about him. You're busier and work later but still chat with him when you can; just not as focused, not as forward. He misses your special attention. Now he mostly sees you dispensing food around dinner time, greeting the others as you come and go.

Tonight, his hunger is legendary. You walk into the kennel the same time you do every night, pat the same heads, serve the same meal, clean up, and-

Mikey's been following you. It's not new for him. You get a second shadow and he gets much needed attention, although none of it is particularly good. He keeps stepping on your heels and trying to smell the air around you, trying to rub his scent off on you, and you're a saint; so patient and so caring and so fucking blind,

Because the rest of the hybrids have formed somewhat of a circle around you. Innocuous seeming, but as your hands empty; bending over to place an empty box on the ground, you hear a shrill, low whistle. It's Mikey. Surrounded by all his little friends with their innocent eyes and big smiles. "What..?" You trail off, not observing the danger as it bares it fangs at you, stepping forward with that probing gaze. "Mikey, are you alright?" Your concern wraps around his heart and almost makes him feel sorry about what he's going to do to you.

(The others have taken a liking to you too. Draken and Peh - Yan and Kazutora and - all his friends really. They don't like you as much as he does, you're his favorite, but they like Mikey enough to fall in line with him - to turn cheek when he lands on top of you and scratches your forearm; starts popping the buttons on your dress shirt.)

Mikey is sooo hungry. His tongue curls around the plane of your neck and his hand impatiently gropes at your chest. Shallow breaths give way to panic; the realization you were the one meant to close up shop, there’s no one else here.

“Manjiro. Stop! Get off of-!” He forces his mouth onto yours, kisses you sloppily like he’s been waiting for you to fall into his arms just so could take you, just like this. His erection pressing against your thigh as he spreads your legs so wide the other hybrids just have to take a look and,

You’re crying.

(They seem drawn to it. Your tears. Your squirming. Mikey licks a long stripe up your cheek, tastes the salt in them. His saliva burns you.) His hands have already forced your pants down your legs, and all the time and effort you poured into him; all your love; it’s become malformed. Grossly misrepresented as he aggravatedly humps your thigh, popping threads your underwear at the goading of his friends, sticking a finger in you so suddenly and harshly that you groan and squeal, pumping it in and out;

“I can be a good boy for ya.” He simpers, raising his hand; lapping your fluids off his fingers. “Let me show you.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀c(⌒o( -▽-)ノ

There was no contingency plan in place for if you lost your nerve and ended up taking home two hybrids instead of one. Sure, you have the space - s’not like you don’t have the money; but dad was going on and on about the importance of spending limits, keeping track of your schedule - making sure they have what they need. “These are live animals, you know. You can’t just throw money at it and make it happy. They’re alive. They think, they desire, they need. You need to take real responsibility n’ take care of them properly or-”

“It’ll be fine. And I’m not just saying that, dad. I swear on it.” Sure you do. You don’t let him finish before you’re making an excuse to get a foot out the door, (because you hate being late more than you hate being told what to do,) a short drive to the kennel your father suggested; which practically feels like a hop and skip away. It’s ritzy, for sure. Mint and cream lettering that deems this building ‘Tenjiku & Friends’. Something about this place is just too cute. You hop out the car and two other men (that your dad sent, because even though he loves you to bits and pieces, sometimes you act like you took a high dive in a low well) tail you, open the door for you, clear the way for you. You had called the kennel the previous day to see if they had anything exotic for sale, and before you make it all the way down the hall, someone -

Cream pants, cotton candy blue vest, polite smile -

stops you in your tracks. He knows your name because he remembers talking to you, but let yourself feel like a celebrity anyway as he walks you down the hall. Most hybrid kennels only vendor dogs and cats - but specialized ones have the more exotic options for high-ballers. You walk past a basilisk (kinda looks like a dragon), wild cats (some big, some small), and harpies; from peacocks to pigeons, it's like this place has it all.

You like the look of the basilisk the most, you guys walk back towards the reptile section as the young man hurriedly explains more shit you don’t give a fuck about-

And then you see it. A brilliant beam of light as pretty scales refract a heat lamps’ brightness right into your eyeballs. You stomp over with all intent to be irritated with whatever stupid ass animal did-

That…

Your rage is cut with shock - all encompassing and rapidly onset. Your shock gives way to astonishment, flapping your hands as you point and go “Look, look!” towards the ice cold cobra resting behind the glass. He doesn’t move at the emergence of new faces, too busy being effortlessly gorgeous and minding his own damn business - but you have the wealth to be nosy.

It’s almost like .. he’s calling out to you.

From behind the observing glass, his chittering tail slips out of view; Rindou - the silver inlay on the name plate reads. There’s another name beneath it - Ran - though the cool-mint scales (on what you presume to be his brother) that slink out of view appeals to you profoundly on an aesthetic level. His brother doesn’t look lots like him as far as coloration goes. He’s a shiny beetle black. Under this heat lamp you can see shifting emeralds and colors of envy shift within the pot of black ink; his skin, beautiful, and (look, your mind’s changing again,) pressing your forehead to the glass, you weigh your options and are unable to think beyond ‘Gosh, they are just so gorgeous.’

They continue ignoring you. They’ve seen ambitious types like you before; the ones that come in and crowd around the main attraction - the twin kings, magnificent and dangerous and feral. That which humans consider beautiful. Their captivity. You gape and awe and marvel so much; pay no heed to the handlers’ that say ‘back away from the glass’, just flash a cute enough smile (show them the billfold of your wallet) and they let people like you carry on. Because they know you’re good for it.

(Rin and Ran talk amongst themselves often; refrain from speaking when humans are around but they definitely talk - about the handlers, about home, about freedom. No more poking with this needle, sedating with that pill, living ‘natural’ lives behind plexiglass. Preferably without pesky fucks like you trying to rip them apart - take them from everything they know-)

“These two are kinda like a package deal. One won’t move without the other - most people just want one and, y’know, s’not like we’re gonna corral em’, or force em to go but-” The guy you’re listening to but not quite blathers on and on, til’ you raise your hand and look over; with the stars and the sun and moon in your eyes; a little less than half a grand in your hand. He looks startled by your fervor, the way you bark orders at the people you came with to get the trucks to have these guys moved out within the hour - having the blue blooded audacity to stand in the way of the snake handlers as they coax the cobras out into the open, watching with wonderstruck glee and tapping your feet and jumping for joy. (You are so annoying. Most well-to-dos are, but when they lay your eyes on you for the first time, when they care enough to bear witness to their new owner; you’re not what they are expecting, and they don’t know if they like that. No crotchety, old, suit wearing executive, no crude perverse old hag. You’re young. A socialite maybe, but naive; surely.) They whisper and hiss and slither across linoleum tile to sniff at you with cautious forked tongues, chittering with their rattling tails. You shouldn’t be this close to them; not yet at least, but money makes men dance and the kennel company is more than happy to oblige your specialty requests.

You look so excited to own them. That’s what they think at first, your mouth gaping at their utterly massive size. Their tails have to be at least twenty feet long, undulating slowly as they are walked down the hall with no issue. The striking specimens are enough to make your eyes water. How would they look in the sun? Sparkling like infinitely precious gemstones and gold. Their scales must be waterproof - maybe if they enjoy a good swim they could break in the new pool you just had renovated. You sigh in utter delight, enchanted by your future and running back to your sleek black car; practically throwing yourself down the flight of steps and demanding your chauffeur break every single traffic code in order to get home before your new pets do.

Hybrids; the best companionship money can buy.

You prepared your house for a hybrid to move in - note, singular, - and largely anticipated bringing home something so much more … normal. What do nagas even enjoy? Do they even like sleeping in beds? Probably not - real snakes don’t even sleep in beds, that’s stupid. You’re stupid and make impulsive decisions. But it's okay. When in doubt, cash out. You start doing research - a little late, but same day delivery is a terrific thing - and are interrupted soon after by violent buzzing and knocking at your door.

Rin and Ran look shocked when they slither inside but that doesn’t matter in the least bit to you. You’re too excited by the towering nagas, clasping your hands together as the handlers ascertain and assess your premises. Good enough, they say, and leave you be.

“So. You guys talk right?” You ask almost stupidly. They share a glance and Rin speaks before Ran does - and you don’t know if it’s a lisp or if that’s just his tongue, but -

“Yes.” His s’s are so sharp they sting. “We do talk, human.” They are far, but close the gap in an instant and, once raised to their full sitting height, tower over you effortlessly. You’re not smart enough to feel intimidated. Ran seems to take to you more than Rin. Isn’t as aloof; rubs his body along your sides as he slithers by, flicking his tongue out at you. “Awesome! Well, this,” You make a sweeping gesture with your hand at the grand expanse of your house. “is your home now! Get comfortable. There’s plenty of room to lounge about and do whatever snakes like to do.” Rindou sneers at you, and you feel like you might’ve said something wrong; but don’t care enough to correct it. They’re your pets, anyway. You provide, they don’t complain.

Rindou continues being cold to you, but Ran warms your heart and soul and almost never wants to leave your side. (They’re playing you. Good cop, bad cop - trying to figure out what makes you tick. How that can be leveraged - work to their benefit. Ran does take a liking to you; you’re dumb and fun and adorable. So small and fragile compared. He learns a lot about you, too; the human shows you like to watch and the fickle games you like to play. You’re not very strong, not very bright - but you’re affluent; wealthy, and to humans that is power.

Him and Rin talk less and less about leaving as the weeks pass. Even Rindou is starting to like you more. Your embarrassed smiles and the fear he can smell in your nervousness. Makes him.. tingle.)

You give them whatever they ask for whenever they want it. More treats, shiny things, installments in your house that can hold their weight, so they can climb and perch and slither and rest. But eventually, they get bored of your money.

They start looking to you for more substance, but that’s when they begin to realize their individuality matters little to you. They are humanoid. Human-ish. But they are not people. To you, they are mindless. You ruffle their hair and call them “Good boys”. You bombard them with hugs and kisses and pats when they don’t want them; though when they are seeking out your attention you’re suddenly too busy, suddenly so annoyed. And of course, they have other needs too.

(You don’t care about being naked in front of them. You strip carelessly and leave articles around the house for them to find, walking into rooms in towels or sometimes nothing at all. It means nothing; your nudity and you purport it should be the same for them. You don’t stare at them like they stare at you. Analyzing your every move. Every inch of bare skin is scandalizing, racy and jarring - they don’t know what to do but stare. Ran, a lapdog if anything, tries to get close to the source - Rin prefers taking mementos and memories. Your bathroom’s so big and shower so relaxing that you don’t care if Ran keeps slithering in and out. He keeps an eye on you, so Rindou can be the one to rummage through your drawers & your laundry. Finds the clothes that smell the most like you, steals them away to fashion into a nest in any random corner of your big ass house. You don’t notice. Maybe you just don’t care.)

You buy clothes obsessively. You have two separate dressers, two closets - probably an entire room for the nice, vintage stuff that takes up space, collecting dust because you have more than you know what to do with - too selfish to give away. You don’t go in there often because most of the time you don’t need to - but all your cute shit is missing all of the sudden. No more flowery blouses or cute boleros or miniskirts - most interestingly, your matching underwear sets. They’ve all gone ghost and of course, you don’t necessarily blame your pets. They’re not messy. Never once had an instance of them chewing anything up, leaving refuse about the place - no, never them. But you don’t find those clothes even when you do your laundry, shake every fucking thing out of that hamper til the lint makes you sneeze, dig through your drawers (cause maybe you just shoved them back inside??? maybe??).

No cigar. You put everything back where it needs to be and step out of your room.

In a last ditch effort, you opt to check that storage room. You don’t anticipate finding anything but dashed dreams and wasted efforts - maybe a Savage X Fenty shopping spree to tide you over - potentially an exorcism to vanquish the ghost who’s taken such a liking to you fucking underwear.

You hear rattling. Like can filled with mung beans shake - shaking down the hall. You really don’t want to be mad or jump to a conclusion - so you wait until your right in front of the door to say for certain that yes, it’s one of those hybrids. You don’t know which name to get ready to scream because you haven’t seen either all morning, rattling the door knob with sweaty palms as you fill your lungs to-

Wheeze.

What you see is … You’re not entirely sure but it knocks the air of your lungs - makes you draw breath that you cannot exhale.

Scratch that - you are certain, you just really, really don’t want to believe it.

The room itself is in no state of disarray. But a crude hill of clothes that was certainly not there before has formed, and holding a pair of your panties in one hand is Rindou - who jerks his cock.. Ahm… cocks, with heated fervor; not interested in your presence immediately, which gives you the grace of time. You swallow your shock, open your mouth -

Before you are shoved into the room entirely from behind. Ran was always a bit big for a Naga, but he didn’t sacrifice stealth for size. You would have fallen on your knees if he hadn’t caught you, the strength he has in one arm perhaps more than you had in your whole body. Rindou acknowledges you then, tauntingly as he rubs your precious velvet panties across the length of his shaft, a wanton moan that breaks into a cruel giggle as Ran proceeds to move you forward.

“What the fuck. Rindou! Ran! What on earth-” You’re jostled. They smile and laugh like there’s a joke you’re not in on. As he forces you closer to Rindou’s cocks, you can smell his musk - the overpowering scent of cum and sex as Ran carries you forward, ignoring your belligerent hollering as your attempts to slip from his grasp prove futile. Ran’s smell dominates your olfactory sense and there’s something about his vulgar display you can’t pry your eyes away from. His dicks are massive; thick at the base where it comes out of the slit, with ribbed edges that you can’t parse. You can hardly imagine something like that fitting inside a human.

“Stop it you fucking snakes! Let! Me! Go!” You flail and fidget but they only chuckle and hiss; playful in their expressions but not in their actions. They aren’t talking in words you can understand either - fucking assholes. You’re angry until Rindou’s cock is bobbing right in front of your face. Then your mouth goes dry and you’re stammering and you don’t know what to do other than -

“Suck it, human.” He commands. You whine.

“No - I’m not putting that thing in m-my, “ He pushes the head of one against your lip until it pops into your mouth, muffling any protest that follows. Ran has already busied himself with your bottom half. He’s gotten your shorts and underwear down to your ankles, using his tail to support your body as Rin focuses on shoving his cock down your throat. The other rubs across your throat and feels strange but not unpleasant.

Ran uses his tongue. It’s too long and slimy and makes you whimper, Rin shudders and groans; thrusts the rest of his cock into your throat, and Ran preps you brusquely - spurned by his brother’s fun, raises your hips and all but impales you on his dick; you jerk and moan around Rindou’s girth, your jaw cramping and your hole stretching-

Kinda like a fucked up see-saw. When you slide off one cock, the other’s rushing to greet ya.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀don't be shy !⠀send this user a message!⠀૮ • ﻌ - ა

#tokyo revengers #tokrev smut #tokyo revengers smut #mikey x reader #izana x reader #shinichiro x reader #ran haitani x reader #rin haitani x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #🌩️ L1GHTN1NG_STRIKE5.pdf

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wysteria-bloom · 1 month

Text

Hazbin Hotel but the reader is an overlord that's like Miss Argentina

Genre : Songfic

Warnings : Val. Allusions to suicide. Self harm.

A/n : yeah bro idek I thought this was a cool idea if this post flops I don't give a shit I love miss argentina and her song is the best out of the whole Beetlejuice soundtrack and I will fucking die on that hill. This is Alastor x reader focused btw.

"I was hot!" The woman exclaimed, leaning against the bar stool seductively, grinning toothily at Charlie," Went to parties a lot, yknow?" She raised her eyebrows suggestively, mimicking snorting cocaine across her forearm.

Charlie smiled nervously at the woman as she watched her spin away from the bar towards Husker gracefully," I was driving lamborghinis sippin' super dry martinis in the tiniest bikinis on a yacht," Her smile dropped and she pretended to be a damsel in distress, leaning backwards as Husk caught her in his arms with a bored expression," but I was depressed~..."

She pet Husk on the cheek good-naturedly and spun out of his arms," Oh so completely obsessed... an unhappy beauty queen who dreamed to be Miss Argentina," She gave Charlie a wink, flipping her hair before she gave her a sincere look," I had such low self-esteem, I was a mess!"

Charlie frowned in sympathy before she was pulled into a side hug very suddenly, face pressed against... a generously gifted... cleavage. Her cheeks exploded a bright colour of red and she could've sworn she heard Vaggie growl.

"So I gave it all up for the netherworld, I've been here forever, girl." She gave Charlie a wink and a ruffle of her hair," If I was more clever, girl - I would've stuck it out. Knowing what life's about."

She spun Charlie around, putting on a dramatic performance as she clutched a hand to her chest," Pain and joy and suffering," She wiped away a fake tear," Failing but recovering. I'll tell you another thing," She gestured to Charlie's ragtag group of sinners who were watching the performance with interest and amusement," Everyone here is alone!" Their faces dropped.

She cupped Charlie's face gently, grinning wryly," so if you are breathing, go home!"

She took Charlie's hands in her own, swaying her hips from side to side, engaging in a tango," If I knew then, what I know now~!" She twirled Charlie around with a joyous laugh, the princess couldn't help but laugh along with her, the woman's energy completely infectious," I would have looked within and let love in somehow~!"

She pulled Charlie back towards her, her movements sharp and jumpy," If I only knew, the truth back then," she pressed a kiss to Charlie's hand and let go, showing her wrists to Charlie with a cheeky little smile on her lips, two blatant scars across her wrists indicated to Charlie what exactly happened to (name)," I wouldn't have had my 'little accident'~"

She swayed around, ignoring the pitying look the princess sent her way," Don't be blind," She stopped in front of the painting of Charlie and her parents, gesturing to it with a disapproving frown on her painted lips," You left your whole life behind!" She then counted with her fingers as she began to list," see a shrink, call a priest, ask the recently deceased!" She pointed at Vaggie who ruffled at her uncomfortably.

She then began to push Charlie gently towards the front door of the hotel, giving Alastor an inviting grin," Death is final and you cannot press rewind~!" She cheered out with a wide grin to her voice.

The Radio Demon simply closed his eyes with a simple little smile on his lips, striding over to the woman and holding his arm out to her in a gentlemanly fashion, which made her laugh and link her arm with his.

As they walked around the town, demons chimed in to (name)'s song, following her with stars in their eyes and wide grins.

"Don't jump when the light is red!"

"Toasters should be used for bread."

"Never smoke cigars in bed..."

"Nietzsche was right, y'know, to live is to suffer, bro!"

"Don't cheat on the one you wed!!"

"Never whip a thoroughbred."

"Angry pygmys shrunk his head!"

(name) gave Charlie a gentle pat to the head with a little frown on her lips as the demons harmonised with her," Why did it take death to see that happiness was up to me?"

The woman broke from Alastor and Charlie, arms gestured out widely as if she was offering a hug to the whole of hell. She wish she could.

"If I knew then, what I know nowww~!" She spun around in a circle as demons danced around her with wide grins stretched across their faces, her energy affecting them as well," I would've laughed and danced and lanced every sacred cow!"

She turned to Alastor and Charlie, bright eyes shining at them as she waved her hands at them to follow along with her and let loose," I thought I knew, but I was wrong~!"

Alastor's grin stretched as he placed a hand on Charlie's shoulder, gesturing a hand to (name) as the two of them sang to her," 'cause life is short, but death is super long!"

Suddenly, a demon with a bomb-shaped head poked his head around (name), a mischievous little grin on his face," I exploded!" And his head did just that. But instead of brains, confetti flew around the whole of street.

It looked like a festival was happening... and with (name) it might as well have been a festival.

Demon danced and frolicked around as they cheered and chirped out, dancing in the square like no tomorrow.

Angel Dust grinned at Husk toothily and offered the cat a hand to dance which he scoffed and rolled his eyes at but took his hand anyways, a grin ghosting onto his lips.

Sir Pentious was crouched down a little as he took Niffty's little hands into his and they flailed their arms happily in an uncoordinated dance. His eggs marching around them with stupid smiles.

Vaggie offered a hand to Charlie with a shy little smile on her lips. The princess' previous grievances were forgotten as she let the happiest smile spread across her lips, pulling Vaggie close to her to begin dancing.

Alastor made his way into the middle as (name) held her hand out to him. His large claws wrapped around hers, one of his hands settled on her waist as he sang along with her.

"If I knew then, what I know now~! " She gave him a bright smile, the two of them dancing in complete sync. (name) didn't know Alastor could tango so well, that was for sure," I would've crossed every line and drank all the wine before my final bow!" At this line, Alastor dipped her, making her squeal in delight.

"If I knew, the things that now I know~!" The two of them focused on eachother's feet as they tapped and moved along to the music sharply, the demons all gaming over singing from here.

"I would ride the highs and cherish the lows! Going, it's a quick trick 'round the rodeo!"

(Name)'s arm wrapped around Alastor's neck as he lifted her up bridal style, spinning her around joyously. The woman had an arm thrown out as she sang her heart out," So before they lower the curtain, be certain to enjoy the show! That's what I knoooow~!"

He let her down as she danced herself and then gave Charlie a supportive smile," life is short but death is long," she took her hand and trailed her through the crowd to the middle of the square, standing on the stairways of the hotel," here, one minute then it's gone."

Charlie joined in the song happily," thought I knew but I was wrong," the two then harmonised," If only I knew what I know now~!!"

- 👠 -

Vox's eye twitched as he watched the screen, just about ready to explode. Vox had it frozen on the frame of (name) in Alastor's arms as they sang together with knowing smiles on their lips.

Val hummed, tapping the screen with a claw," her tits are huge, huh?"

That made the TV-man snap as he glitched out from pure adultered rage, throwing his "Fuck Alastor" mug at Val.

#alastor x y/n #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x you #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #songfic #i love miss argentina with my whole heart #Spotify

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letsgetrowdy43 · 7 months

Note

i just know that jack is just so nosey & ends up finding sunny’s pregnancy test & freaksout, telling luke and causing a huge argument.

quinn is obviously on sunny’s side and is trying to be the voice of reason and all the other hockey boys are just sippin there drinks like 😬

Au Masterlist!!

Adam is in Ohio for rookie camp at this time, so sunny is just battling these demons all in her own.

Lounging on the couch ignoing Alex and Trevor’s pestering as she read her novel, Luke and Quinn were playing pool and signing along to the 80’s music that Z refusesed to turn off.

Jack stormed into the room in disgust and stomped inform of his sister with the box in his hands. “You're pregnant?” he yelled making everyone in the room tense.

Alex choked on his beer as Trevor leaned forward to see a wide-eyed Sunny, her book now on the floor, page lost as she snatched the box from his grasp and hit him up the side of the head with it. “Stay out of my room Jack,” she hit him again, this time in the arm. Jack cringed, “Ewww, don't touch me with that, you peed on it!” he whined with a frown as Trevor let out a loud giggle which resulted in Alex smacking his hand over Trevor's mouth.

“You're pregnant?” Luke said angrily, walking over to be beside Jack, Dad's stance as he towered over his little sister, “Adam’s a dead man.” “No, it's not like that!” “He got you pregnant! What do you mean it's not like that!” Jack said sternly.

“Maybe let her speak dumbass,” Quinn pushed both of his brothers out of his little sister's view and sat down next to her, “what do you need us to do?” he asked as he rubbed her back, face buried in her hands in frustration. Sunny to a deep breath before looking up at her brothers, “I need Jack to mind his own business,” she threw the box at his face. “Stop making it touch me!” this time Alex let out a loud screech.

“I'm not pregnant, it's negative,” she huffed and picked up the pillow next to her and whipped it at Luke, “so leave me, and leave Adam alone,” she yelled and stormed out if the room.

Quinn ran his hands over his face, debriefing what just went down as Trevor let out a yelp of disgust. “Oh god, Sunny has sex!” he said in a terrified voice as all three brothers let out groans of disgust

#tinydancerau!!#adam fantilli blurb #adam fantilli insta edit #adam fantilli imagine #adam fantilli x reader #quinn hughes #luke hughes #jack hughes #umich hockey #adam fantilli #trevor zegras

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radioisntdead · 11 days

Note

Hello hello for the third time!!

Once again, your fics absolutely BLOW my mind away!! And I'm here to request just a silly fic with Angel Dust (platonic) and a feral!child reader, who always gets into trouble with his workplace and the hotel?

(I mostly just wanna read Valentino be shit on lmao)

Yours Truly,

- XIN 💠

(P.S, I RLLY WANNA BECOKE UR FRIEND OMG)

Good evening my dear! You requested this at the perfect time because I had to stop the feral child I am related to from running over the elderly with a grocery cart so that's definitely going to play into this not the hitting the elderly with a cart but the general vibe, ALSO THATS SO SWEET OF YOU TO SAY, I'M OPEN TO FRIENDSHIP JUST MESSAGE ME ON HERE BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW IF I MESSAGE YOU FIRST IT'LL BE FROM THIS BLOG OR MY MAIN ONE (I've been on Tumblr for like 5-6 years now and I still don't know how it works) YOU WILL GET ME YAPPIN' ABOUT HAZBIN, SENDING RANDOM SNIPPETS OF MY WRITING WITHOUT ANY CONTEXT AND MILDLY ODD EDITS OF SOUP

@fuck-this-shit-xin

Favorite babysitter

(Or alternatively Valentino gets beat by a child)

Angel dust & child reader, platonic!!!

Warnings:

I got carried away, Valentino loses a wing and both Antennas, nothing graphic surprisingly no unholy jokes mainly because the reader is a child, this is a shorter one, mild OOC

Angel dust didn't mind children, he preferred not to be around them because well, he wasn't the most child-friendly person to be around

However it was just his luck that the hazbin hotel's resident feral child had decided he was their favorite babysitter.

You had shown up one day at the doorstep of the hotel with a note taped onto you just saying 'Good luck '

It was suspected you were some type of bomb at first but that quickly was pushed aside when it was found you were just feral, you weren't a bad kid you just didn't listen, climbed onto the walls, tabletops, bit into things you weren't supposed too but you could be a very sweet kid, playing with the Egg Bois, helping Charlie by drawing, helping Husk dry the glasses or hunting down roaches with Niffty,

That last activity had been banned since you almost stabbed one of the Egg Bois.

You were a very sneaky and little clingy thing that was evident with you latching onto his legs at random times, sometimes he wouldn't even notice you until it was pointed out or he looked down and bam! There you were wrapped around him like a baby possum sippin' on a juice box.

He made it a point to make sure someone was distracting you as he escaped the hotel to go to work, unfortunately for him Sir Pentious who was meant to be watching you was distracted by his egg minions almost smashing themselves while trying to recreate action movies and you ran after him following him through the city and into the Vee's tower, shockingly due to plot convenience you weren't noticed until Valentino was yelling at Angel dust for who knows what before any work could be done, he pulled out Angel's contract for whatever reason, maybe to make a point? You didn't really know but you didn't like that what looked like a giant dressed up purple grape was yelling at your favorite babysitter so with your little legs you stomped up to Valentino tugging on his wings that acted as a robe, he looked down in fury that quick turned into angry confusion

"Who the fuck brought their child to set?!"

Valentino shouted looking around as his employees looked around shaking their heads, a rush of pure panic rushed through Angel dust, when did you get here? He didn't even notice you? Wasn't Sir Pentious watching you?!

Before he could even get a word out you stomped your leg and pointed at him, eyes full of pure fury.

"Say sorry!"

"¿Qué? What did you just say?"

"Say sorry!"

Valentino leaned uncomfortably in, opening his mouth to say something but Angel had grabbed you in his many arms fully intending to take whatever hit Valentino could throw at you, however you had a different plan, with a large frown on your face you wiggled your way out of Angels arms and pounced onto Valentino, your little clawed hands tearing into his wings, leaving small puncture wounds behind as you climbed up him, the contract that bounded Angel dust's soul to Valentino floated down to the ground.

Valentino yelled out words you couldn't quite understand as his wings flared out, you took the opportunity to steal his hat and bite into it tearing it apart before throwing the remaining fabric onto the ground.

The unholy studio's employees could only watch stunned as you grabbed onto his antennas completely ripping them off, if he couldn't fly because of his damaged one before, he definitely had no hope of it now.

Valentino dropped to the ground screeching, arms reaching up to throw you off only for you to start crawling around his back like a little bug leaving more scratches and wounds

Angel dust once he recovered from the shock of you absolutely tearing apart Valentino tried to grab you fully intending on taking you and booking it to the hotel where you'd be safe,

Unfortunately you were freakishly strong and in angel's attempts of trying to pull you off ended up pulling one of Valentino's wings out.

"Are you going to say sorry now?"

Valentino let out a groan of disoriented pain,

That didn't sound like an 'I'm sorry' to you, so you climbed up his remaining wing and ripped a large chunk of his fluff from it, Niffty would be proud!

"¡Lo siento! ¡Lo siento, solo vete!" the still disoriented Valentino shouted from the ground,

You smiled as you stood up from the overlord and skipped towards Angel dust, your eyes caught the contract that had floated to the ground, now you didn't know what it contained because you couldn't read but you assumed it probably meant something to the purple guy and so you decided that you should rip it.

"[Name] get over here' I gotta get you outta here before-" Angel dust started as you swiped the contact off the floor and ripped it to shreds, the smoke-like chain briefly appeared around Angel dust's neck before breaking apart and whooshing away.

Angel was stunned for a moment before a large grin broke out on his face, before anyone could say anything he picked you up, raised a certain finger up and shouted that he was quitting, after all Valentino didn't have his soul anymore, and frankly the work environment would be awkward now to say the least since a child had just inflicted permeant damage to his now former boss, he could find another job.

Unfortunately someone who didn't have good morals called the security team and now Angel dust was running down the Vee's tower holding you, he would pull out the guns that he kept in I assume his ribcage or something but you were right there and the gunshots would hurt your little eardrums, eventually the two of you outran them and returned into the safety of the hotel.

Angel dust sat you down on the ground as he breathed in, catching his breath while Sir Pentious rushed to you lifting you up while asking where you were before looking at Angel in confusion.

"Aren't you ssssssupposed to be at work?"

"I quit! Lil' chronic juice-o-holic over there ripped up my contract and fucked up Valentino! hAh!" Angel said still trying to catch his breath as you slipped out of Sir Pentious's hold and ran to go bug Husk for a juice box.

The news of you ripping Valentino's antennas and a wing out made hotel news, you were lightly scolded by Charlie about taking the violent route but she gave you ice cream and bought you a toy as a reward, Alastor saw great potential in you, Husk patted your head saying that you did good, Vaggie would eventually decide to teach you how to fight, you got being feral down but it couldn't help to teach you to be more calculated, Niffty was happy when you gave her the big clump of fluff for her collection, she already had some from her earlier interaction with the now antenna-less moth but more couldn't hurt!

And Angel dust, well he owed ya big time although he did scold you for following him into a dangerous place [thank goodness you didn't see anythin' unholy or Vaggie would've had his head!]

He spent a little more time with you the following week before he decided to do some job huntin', he would sneak you some candy or a extra juicebox when he could, and the two of you would watch kid friendly Disney or dreamworks movies on the hotel's TV.

Valentino laid down in his hospital room, full of fury that he got injured by a child of all things, a small child that had some type of connection with Angel dust who's soul he no longer owned, he swore that he would get payback against the child, unfortunately for him the mere presence of that child would strike enough fear into him that he wouldn't be able to make a move, and even if he could he wouldn't be able to do anything to the feral child.

He got off easy this time, he wouldn't be as lucky the next he messed with your favorite babysitter again.

Good evening folks! Hope you enjoyed! I'm working on getting the older requests in my inbox done and getting them out next week along with the 100 followers fic with Angel dust! So tune on in for that! Goodnight folks!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #Angel dust & reader #hazbin hotel angel dust x reader #angel dust x reader

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sintiva · 1 year

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LOVE BETWEEN, e. jaeger ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

❁ summary: the two newlyweds, mr. and mrs. jaeger, emulate the special meaning of love between two human beings

❁ content: blackfem!reader, just light touching and kissing, alcohol is consumed, but nonetheless, this is straight sappy content...my first sfw piece...🚶🏽‍♀️

❁ notes: kali's album is so so so good, and love between is currently my favorite, so what did I do? thought up a scenario on the bus. i hope you guys enjoy it! feedback appreciated😊 — playlist

love between two human beings can be so wonderful… it was true, right now in this very moment. in this life, as eren’s hand settled in the dip in your back; smoothing over the warm and sticky skin. you had worked up quite a sweat, but he continued to guide your feet with his. he was holding your hand up and leading you in a careful, slow, and simple waltz. the warm, yellow lights of the botanical garden lit the perfect path, so neither of you would lose balance or topple over into a bush.

“jus’… follow my steps, promi-” blegh… he burps. you both freeze and stare in disgust! eren had the audacity to look appalled, himself.

“‘rennn, tha'snasty! say 'scuse me.” you giggle, hitting your fist against his chest, and then follow with a soft barrage of multiple petty hits. he conceded, playing into your scene of punishing the silly boy for burping so unexpectedly.

the slur and fumbling of words only reaffirm that you two are meant to be. you're both calculated, intricate, and suitable human beings made perfectly for the other. extra time was devoted in the creation of you both.

you were both young, drunk, newlyweds. slow sippin’ on wine until mr. jaeger offered shots. “well,” you suck your teeth and tilt your glass of wine to your mouth downing the rest of the rich, red liquid, “i wouldn’t be able to call myself mrs. jaeger if i refused. now would i?” you scoot your face closer to his and he adores how the tip of your nose and the apex of your cheekbone glisten from the faint golden shimmer highlight you brushed on them earlier.

“exactly! as a jaeger, you must be able to hold your liquor. can you do that my sweet wife?” with an outstretched hand he takes his index finger and tilts your chin up, careful not to ruin the makeup you worked so hard on.

pshh, you let the air wisp out the corner of your lips in disbelief. “can you even do that, husband?” you bat your eyes and wrap your hand around his wrist in wait for his answer. he smirks and chuckles in disbelief. his head hangs in embarrassment and he lifts his free hand to his forehead to shield the red that creeps it’s way up to his neck, and further spreads to his face.

you giggle; releasing his wrist and mocking him for his quick flustering. he pouts at you and calls you an evil, little thing, "but you love me though.”

“like no one else in the world, baby.”

his lifts his but off the seat, and leans forward to peck your lips — always careful not to mess up your pretty lip look. you suck in your cheeks, trying not to be like that newly wed couple, but you just couldn’t help it. you didn't want to be that overly giddy partner, but there was no need to restrict your affection. you wanted to be all over each other, shower the other in kisses and feed each other as you wined and dined. it was sweet, magical; everything you could’ve only dreamed, intangible — until eren somehow made it a dreamy reality.

eren beckoned the server over, and you grasped onto every word and brand he asked for. patron, tequila, old fashion, on the rocks, no sour mixes, any and everything — even rum and more wines. an entire language that you didn’t understand, but you’d drink it. one thing you knew for sure was that you only wanted a small amount of salt on the rim. but eren had the poor server bring over all those drinks and extras just for him to get "tipsy" on his third shot of patron.

which leads to the current predicament. a slow, sweet, and passionate waltz. his emerald eys sparkle in the way that yours shine. his lips curl up into an innocent but cheeky smile when you accidentally slip, or your heel awkwardly grates along the concrete; he'll catch you with an "I've got you, baby."

"i know you do, 'ren. you always have, even...even before all this."

he's got you. in sickness, in health, in any predicament that may make you question the capability of your love. even in the solitude and inescapable signs of death.

he'll hold you and cherish you in his arms. specifically, in this moment as you both hold the other. as you portray a disgusting amount of public affection that makes the wondering eye gag and repulse at the sight of you two — content, and carefree.

"our love is wonderful you know,"

"you think so?" you lift your forehead off his chest and wait for his answer.

"because i've dreamed of this moment since that day I met you, yn, since the day I've laid my eyes on you-". i forgot to mention he rambles when he gets a little tipsy.

"-from the day you picked on me for tripping over my shoelace in the work cafeteria. yeah, it was a stupid mistake, but the way you approached me. I'll never forget it," one smooch, as his hands drop to your waist. his fingers knead the warm, supple flesh. he's scooping you up in a way that only you're familiar with.

the music in the back now seemed like a figment of your imagination. a minor fracture in your perfect reality. a memory only feasible if eren was out of your sight. your vision blurs as he opens his mouth again.

"it was how you spoke to me, and how you looked,"

he's trying his hardest to focus on his words, but his hands have a mind of their own. his own feelings of sentiment make him woozy, and enamored — with you, and just you. this space between you two he needs to consume it.

i even remember how you smelled that day, baby. can you believe that?

"ohhh, e-eren," you've been struck by the wave of emotions you've been jumping with the entire night. you promised yourself that you wouldn't cry, not like this. not in the beautifully lit, and well-maintained green scenery of the botanical garden. the only time he succeeded in making you this vulnerable to your emotions was when he proposed.

one year ago, on a trip to turks and caicos. alone on an island sipping on margaritas until you were being more susceptible to your sexual fantasies that involved the nature of being overseas.

"this isn't what i expected, i never do things that make me happy, but this — being with you, experiencing life alongside you has made me the happiest. i can't imagine a life, my life without you, yn"

and then there's another smooch on your lips, and a warm thumb gliding across your cheek to wipe the slew of tears that slip out of your beautiful eyes. the slow dancing stopped, leaving the two of you to sway along to an ambiguous tune. the ending of the song — a true fantasy. but the birth and unification of life with the other, a world where claiming the other as "mine" has become so sweet and dulcet.

"honey, you said you weren't gonna cry."

"i know, but — just..." and you break down. digging your fingers into his arms, scared to let go. scared of the future, the end of this moment. the end of a man truly loving and worshipping you the way eren has. a prior life that he's made you forget.

"i've never, ever had this in my life, eren. you know this, and i want us — this," you sobs get louder, but eren understands, he knows you and every single part of you. your body, brain and those thoughts that make you question every little thing.

"i'm yours for forever, angel. till the end of us, till the end of me. i am forever devoted to you."

"you're stealing all the good lines from my head, eren, stop it." you whine and place your fist on his chest. he always had a way with words, that you just could never articulate. a soul like eren's was rare, it was a beauty, a true beauty. the soul of a man that you truly deserved.

"one of us has to say them, and it's helping me distract my tears." he sniffles, unexpectedly. his brunette strands tilt forward as he drops his head and succumbs to his tears. he's been holding them in, working through a hammering heart as his wife cried before him. he was a sensitive guy too you know, but he made sure that you heard his words first.

eren was entirely aware that you needed this moment, maybe he needed it more, but it was a solidifying factor. crying together, loving together, hardships together, and the inevitable. together.

"promise me," he holds your face, for an intimate kiss this time — a pause from the tears, "that our souls have been intertwined for an eternity. you're mine, I'm yours?" that emerald shimmer of his teary eyes makes your knees feel weak. but that promise was a given.

"I promise you, mr. jaeger, m-my life, my love, and my... my devotion. my soul has bonded in a forever tie with yours." you barely manage, but you got it out. that's all that matters.

"you promise?" he knocks his forehead against yours and gently soothes your body with his hands; holding you like the most fragile thing on the planet.

"i swear, promise — everything." you sweetly reply, and dry those tears. you peer up at him. eyes swollen and red, but you wait for the final factor. the fourth kiss that seals the deal. the fourth slotting of his lips against yours when he murmurs a sweet, "c'mere, baby, i love you."

the sweet feeling of his tongue agasint yours. the taste of alcohol distilled by pressure and passion — and a bit of tears.

the fourth kiss of infinite companionship, a partner, and a lover. two conflating souls, bound by the spell of love.

you and i, till the end of time.

#eren jaeger x black reader #eren x black reader #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger fluff #aot x reader #eren jaeger aot

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shoezuki · 26 days

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I dunno why but I feel like Gepard can handle liquor. Like Sampo has the gift of bein smart knowin his limits and what to drink and when, so he gives off the vibe of being able to handle a lot but he's not that heavyweight. He's jus big brain conman XD. Get enough in him n he'll go down like the rest.

But Geppie. Man's sippin vodka from the bottle and not even slurrin his words. When he was a trainee the older guards decided to prank him with a glass of absinthe n called it a weak alcohol only for him to get halfway and not even bat an eye, only stopped cuz it tasted like ass. Dude takes the path of preservation seriously. Even his liver is beyond destruction XD.

Which is why I find two situations very freakin funny, which I'd love your opinion on:

1) Sampo starts up a drinking competition with him. It's on one of his guardian mandated holidays, so Gepard doesn't have to be responsible, and Dove 3 in 1 won't leave him alone anyway, so he agrees. Partway thru Sampo realises he's losin but Gep insists on gettin the drinks so he can't even cheat his way to victory. Cue Gep having to drag a very drunk, incredibly flirty Sampo back to Natasha but he keeps running off. Even being drunk doesn't stop him from havin smoke bombs up the wazoo.

2) Sampo manages to cheat, scheme, girlboss his way to victory. He comes out on top but now has the problem of an incredibly drunk, dangerously curious Silvermane Captain who won't stop flooding him with the oddest of questions. "Why are your eyes so green? Is your hair natural? What happened to the rest of your shirt? Do you really enjoy crime or is it jus something you fell into?" Whi- okay that one was oddly specific and he doesn't have the capacity, as tispy as he is, to answer.

He really needs to get him back home, before he asks the wrong person the wrong question, but isn't cognitive enough to face being questioned by Bronya and would sooner die than face Serval. So he opts into takin him to one of his more obvious hideouts which poses 10 million problems in and of itself when he keeps freakin touching everything!

ANON YOURE RIGHT YOURE A FUCKING. GENIUS. I been thinkin bout this A LOT ACTUALLY prob cuz for some reason fandom seems to lean towards gepard bein a horrific lightweight (i mean i know Why the lightweight trope is very much seen as 'cute' and childlike n whatever but i digress). But tbhtbhtbh i agree w u 100% like.

Gepard is a Tank of a Man. Homie can handle anything. Mfer the living embodiment of preservation like dude could be like 'serval this drink sucks' and hes gulping down perfume, unaffected. Dudes prob ate weird shit out on the front lines n questionable rations. The stuff in his fridge is expired n hes jus shrugging and eating it anyways.

I think w sampo its like. He SEEMS like he can handle his liquor. And hes not bad w it. But hes an Actor. Mfer could be plastered and you wouldnt know. Dude could convince a breathalyzer that hes only a Little Tipsy. But theres a threshold for him where he jus Caves at some points. Like u said tho man is Always competent w bombs. Like drunken boxing but w daggers dude could be blown over by a gentle breeze but still kicks ass.

I imagine that gepard doesnt Usually drink in that he jus. Doesnt care much. But absolutely his drink of choice is the hard shit. He jus has whiskey w ice or vodka w tonic water like a freak. Maybe a white russian if hes feelin zesty. When his guards convince him to go to the bar n challenge him to take shots he shrugs n jus packs them back no big deal.

But oh my god like. The 2nd scenario. I imagine it in order like first sampo realizing gepard has an Inhuman tolerance n making it his missiom to get the good ol captain fucked up. N it takes a while but like. Gepard jus gets more... blunt. But in a strange soft questioning way where he asks the things he wonders bout but never says aloud. The kinda soul reads like 'sampo youre a criminal not because you need to be but because you enjoy the thrill and attention right?' N sampo is just like holy fuck. But its like his inhibitions are gone and hes so Curious about everything and everything. He hangs onto sampos every word n it drives sampo crazy

#alcohol mention #sampard #anon im holding you. we r holding hands.#i like gep being a sturdy lad. like. a tank. nothing shakes him. someone tries to poison him but he doesnt notice #getting stabbed is a mild inconvenience ok. all the silvermanes get food poisoning from the cafeteria food one day except him.#except wine fucks him up a lil quicker #who knows why bsbsvdjddh #anon #ANOTHER ALTERNATIVE: gepard is the 'can i have a sip of your water?' 'its not water' 'what' 'its vodka'

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writersblockiskillingme · 1 year

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Gladiator | Jan Rozmanowski/Jann

Pairing: Jan Rozmanowski/Jann x reader (figure skater!reader)

Summary: People find it hard to believe that Jan wrote Gladiator for you and his relationship with you, but once they look in the lyrics a bit better it all makes sense.

Warning/s: swearing (twice, maybe three times), impaled smut, but not in detail, stress and pressure, possible grammar and spelling mistakes, but I really hope you will enjoy this one

Author's note: I didn't see any Jann imagines on here and we CAN NOT and WILL NOT have that... so I made one. I also kind of got inspired by the queen herself, Alexandra Trusova. Enjoy! (Requests are open)

Welcome to the party, say hi to everybody

Paid for by Martini, but they're sippin' on Bacardi

Body's more than just a flesh, you can sell it for success

What's your price what's your address? We can finish at my place

Sometimes it can get really hard. You were a famous figure skater and it meant that you had to give up a lot. Like a lot. You could make some friends, sure, but it will never last. Figure skating is truly a very competitive sport and it would mean that you had to go up against your friends most of the time. So yeah, it never ends well. One always gets hurt and, as selfish as this may sound, you always had to make sure that you wouldn't be the one to get hurt.

You kind of lost all of the interest about the party that you were attending right now. You just felt so tired from the late practice last night that you felt like you could easily doze off right here. You found yourself leaning against the bar corner as you drank the last drop of your Bacardi, even tho you paid for a Martini. However, when the bartender brought you the wrong drink you didn't want to be one of those people so you didn't tell him anything. Plus you really couldn't care less as long as you get a little alcohol in your system to try and wash away all of the shit that was currently going on. The preparations for the World Championship was truly killing you, eating you outside out.

As you ordered yourself a new round of Bacardi, you noticed the guy standing next to you.

You didn't really know what was it. The alcohol? Your fucked out drunk as fuck brain? Or perhaps it was the tiredness from the bone crushing training with zero percent of sleep? In any case, whatever it was, you noticed one thing. The guy was drop dead gorgeous, it surprised you that he was alone nursing a bunch of Margaritas. His hair was dirty blonde, almost brown. His eyes looked so tired, but they still held a beautiful kind of joy. He looked so tired, too. You noticed the way he was lightly gripping at the glass that he was probably a bit drunk, too. You also noticed that he was so freakishly tall. It all confused you. You thought that it was ridiculous. How can somebody be so bloody drop dead gorgeous?

Maybe it was alcohol after all because you suddenly got a wave of self encouragement and you found yourself slowly stepping towards him. Something was simply pulling you towards him. You simply felt like you need to get to know him. It surprised you. You weren't usually the one to step forward, it flooded you with nervousness. Plus, considering your occupation, you didn't really have much time to get yourself a boyfriend, but it felt like it would be nice. All you had to do entire day was wake up, eat if you have time, practice, quick break, more practice, shower, rihurse, eat, sleep. On Fridays you allowed yourself to get drunk just enough so you could forget it all, but you thought that it would be nice. You know?

To have someone who is not putting even more pressure on you, to always be there for you, no matter what. To encourage you, to be there for you, to cheer you on, to make you happy. Somebody who will be proud of you no matter what. Someone who will be there when the pressure and the expectations get to much. When you break down. Someone to hold you. To see you as you. To love you. And, weirdly enough, you felt this towards that unknown guy you just saw, but you didn't now that he was actually looking at you the entire night. Watching you drowning yourself in a drink that you didn't even order, but were to nice to say anything to the bartender. He was watching you perform for a bit, too. He found you very talented. Very gorgeous.

However, before you could make a few steps towards him, from the spot in which you were standing in, you were suddenly swarmed with the crowd.

It lasted long enough it seems like, you thought to yourself. It was just a matter of time before somebody would approach you. In the corner of your eye, you saw him smirking at you, his face saying "amusement". Your eyes met and he got up, to your surprise. People around you were yelling, dancing, drinking, the crowd stared to make small talk, but your eyes were still just on him. He knew it, too. He stopped walking when he reached the end of the crowd. Your eyes filled with realization and a bit of amusement. Once you finally said hello to everybody, you will reach the one you want to get to know the most right now. And so you started with the talk.

After a long while, you felt like you got hit by a truck. You were still talking, still drinking, still faking. Just as the last person finally went away and the last photo got taken, at that moment approached you the person you wanted the most. He ordered himself and you a Martini and you got to chit-chat.

"I must say." He began as the bartender placed two Martinis in front of you. "I feel so honored that you found time to talk to me."

"Yeah, sorry about that." You suddenly your cheeks felt hot and you realized that you were blushing.

"No, it's good. But I must say you look even more gorgeous when you blush." He gave you his signature smirk as he took another sip of his Martini. At that, you felt like your face was red as a tomato.

"By the way, I saw your performance in Amsterdam three days ago." He said and you couldn't help but to look up at him in surprise. God he was so tall. "Those two flips that you did... I can see that you are very skilled." He gave you another compliment as he took another sip of his Martini. You felt so honored, he had seen you perform, he thinks your skilled. Somehow it felt like a big commitment. Somehow, someway, his opinion mattered to you.

"Really?" You started, suddenly feeling very bold. "I thought that the part where I did that Cantilever was gonna be your favorite."

"Oh, trust me it is." He gave you a wink as he continued to talk. "It looked really good, darling." He said, his Polish accent coming on strong.

"Well, what can I say. It had to be good. However, sometimes, the body is more than just a flesh, but in many things you can sell it for success." You winked back at him as you said that. "But you have to have some talent, too."

Both him and you knew one thing, though. If you continued to drink as much as you do right now and talk the way you were talking right now, you will probably end up finishing this conversation at his place.

Ever been to Bali? I really need some sun

Such a shame 'bout that tsunami, I'll have to go to Cali

I can get you dressed, wrap your body in excess

Give them something to obsess over

It felt so good. You were talking about everything and about nothing. He told you that he wanted to visit an island called Bali, but a day before his flight he saw the news about the island being hit by a tsunami so he decided to go to Cali. He also told you that he was a professional song writer and a singer and that he wanted to make another song, but didn't really have an inspiration.

You were telling him about the struggle of your sport and that you felt like all of the weight of the expectations were slowly, but surely crushing down on you. But you also told him about the fun part of your job, the costumes, the song and choreography choice. You enjoyed that, he could tell so, too. From the way that you were talking about it, he felt like he could listen forever.

"My coach is putting so much pressure on me. It gets to much, sometimes. Like I'm not famous enough. It gets on my nerves so much sometimes. I can't even go to a grocery store, most of the time somebody will recognize me!"

You complained and he listened. He listened and gave his opinion and you knew that he felt the same and it hurt so much. You felt like you had fallen in love, it was ridiculous. But at the same time it wasn't.

After a while he pulled you towards the middle of the dance floor. You were laughing and dancing and singing along. You didn't feel this relaxed and this happy for a long time. It felt like drugs. You just couldn't get enough and you never wanted it to stop.

Jan placed his arms around your waist as you danced and just had fun. You pulled each other closer as you danced. You could smell his cologne as you hid your face in his neck. He smelled like the finest air, alcohol and cigarettes. It was a weird combination, but it was so comforting, you felt like you could only breathe that astonishing smell for the rest of your life. Pretty soon, you tangled your hands in his hair as he played with the edge of your dress.

"They are taking photos of us." You found yourself whispering in his ear. You could practically feel the smirk he directed to you.

"It's fine." Jan laughed a bit, amused. "A figure skater and a singer. That'll give them something to obsess over."

You'll love it when I give it to you, leave you wanting more

I know your addiction's attention, let's start a show

Is it everything and more than you were hoping for?

Show us something we ain't never seen before

Jan and you were dating for two months now, and you had to admit that it was the best relationship that you were ever in. It went so much better than you thought it would. He was your number 1 supporter and you were his. He came to your every performance just like you came to every gig he had. You were always cheering him on just like he always cheered you on.

You just got off the practice, you were supposed to have a few days off and you couldn't wait to go away. You couldn't wait to leave rehearsals for a while, to leave your coach for a while, to leave the public eye for a while. You just couldn't wait to go get out of the building and crash at Jan's place. As you got out of the rehearsal, the first person you saw was your gorgeous boyfriend.

The moment he saw you he gave you your water bottle and despite your protests took your bag and slang it over his shoulder. He put his arm around you and led you to the car as you drank your water. You couldn't wait to get to his house. And, boy, it was worth the wait.

The moment you walked in he had you pressed against the wall, kissing you passionately. You tangled your hands in his gorgeous hair as he mumbled "jump" against your mouth. You did just that. Jan's arms wrapped around your legs as he walked upstairs towards the bedroom.

He gently placed you down, his lips never in the wildest dreams leaving your lips. Jam continued to kiss you as both of you slowly got rid of your clothes. After you were both pressed against each other, skin to skin, he pulled away for a short while.

"You'll love it when I give it to you. I'll leave you wanting more." And that wasn't a threat, it was a promise.

Smash your competition, baby

Show us some good entertainment

Victory's your only payment

Gladiator, gladiator

You were so bloody nervous, you felt like you were about to throw up or explode or something. You were messing around with the end of the red costume you were wearing, a white jacket was slung over your shoulders to protect the costume.

Jan immediately noticed what was wrong and quickly brought you into a hug. He didn't say anything for a while, he was just slowly rocking you back and forth in his arms.

Jan felt you tighten your arms around him. You felt like crying. He knew it. He pulled you even closer, afraid that you would disappear or that a messy cloud of fear and anxiety that was hanging above your head would cover you completely. The smell of his cologne calmed you down a little bit, but you still felt like you would much rather just crowl into a hole and die.

"You can do this." Jan pulled away as he placed both of his hands on each side of your face. "You can land 5 quads, you can win the World Championship. I know you can." It seemed like his words of encouragement did little to settle down the nervous pit that was constantly, slowly, painfully growing inside of your stomach.

"But, what if I-?"

"Even if you don't." He gave you a look. "Even if you don't it will still be like you did. For me you did. For your whole country, for your family, for your friends it will be like you won."

You nodded your head slowly, nervousness calming down a little bit. He slowely copied your action and nodded his head, too. You gave him a smile, a silent "thank you" for slicing that into you.

"Now go out there and show them something they have never seen before." He said and you pulled him in a quick kiss before your coach called you.

"Thank you, Jan." You whispered before you left. Jan smiled as he watched you go, shining with pride as he walked away to get to his seat.

Welcome to the party, I know it's kinda funny

That everyone is acting like they know you personally

Just play along, be nice and all

You won't get far being on your own

Your makeup was a bit ruined, but it didn't matter because you did it! Everything that you were working on your whole life had come true. You won the World Championship and you made history by landing 5 quads.

You grabbed your trophy and took pictures with the girls who got 2nd and 3rd place. But there was this bubbling excitement in your chest. You just couldn't wait to get off of the platform and to celebrate your victory with the person who supported you the most. Jan.

The moment that you saw each other, you ran to one another and Jan lifted you from the ground as he kept spinning you around.

"I'm so proud of you, baby!" He said as he attacked you with kisses. "My world champion!"

Later on you walked into a celebration party. Everyone was chatting with you, congratulations were shot at you from miles away and everyone was talking to you like they truly know you. After a while, you called it quits and left with one arm wrapped around your trophy and with other arm wrapped around your greatest treasure.

"I find it kind of funny, you know." Jan spoke up as you walked towards the car with you. "Everyone was talking to us like they knew every single thing about us."

"I know. But you know what?" You tightened your arm around him as you gave him a light, tired smile. "You really should always be kind to everyone. On this world you can't do it all on your own. So thank you, Jan. For your support."

"Baby, you are my greatest prise."

#jann #jan rozmanowski x reader #jann x reader #jan rozmanowski #eurovision song contest #eurovision 2023 #imagine #jan x reader #x reader #songfic #gladiator #jann gladiator #Spotify #fic #why is he so gorgeous #why is he so precious

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drefear · 11 months

Text

Escapism

A whirlwind of celebrity flashed before my eyes as I stepped out of the limousine, black stilettos so high that it made me wobble as I tried to haul out the heavy fabric of the designer gown I was gifted to wear and show off tonight. My hands pulled at the black fabric and pulled it up, readying myself to walk as cameras flashed at me in anticipation of what I was about to do and who I was going to be walking with.

The red carpet below me made me feel a bit uneasy as I stepped and posed for the photos being taken, a hand reaching around my back as I glanced at who was next to me and it made my breath shake. My ex-boyfriend, as of 24 hours ago, was standing by my side and smiling at the photographers who would no doubt be putting our photos in the magazines tomorrow and telling the world how amazing and beautiful of a couple we were.

It made my stomach drop, my blood freeze, and I ripped my hand away from his as he reached out to hold mine. Pushing him backwards into the vehicle behind me, I walked forward and up the stairs. This night would be mine, and I’d enjoy it no matter what.

Sleazin' and teasin', I'm sittin' on him

All of my diamonds are drippin' on him

I met him at the bar, it was 12 or somethin'

I ordered two more wines, 'cause tonight, I want him

My body moved with grace, power, at my obvious show of anger and upset towards the man I spent years of my life with. I spun and adjusted the expensive and over-dramatic fashion on my body, touching the black gown skirt and walking up the steps of the event, a hand was coming into view only a few inches away from my face. My eyes found clear blue ones and black hair framing the pale skin of the infamous man reaching for me and as my heart skipped a beat, my hand flew into his as if made to do so.

A little context if you care to listen

I find myself in a shit position

The man that I love sat me down last night

And he told me that it's over, dumb decision

My mind automatically flashed to much dirtier things, actions that would get us both removed from the event and undeniably on the cover of any gossip article the next day. The profound image of him holding my body, naked and sweating, kissing my body, wouldn’t stop infecting my mind over and over as he assisted me up the stairs and smiled at me. The night sky shone over the roof as we entered the building and I refused to look away, ignoring the flashing and yelling for my attention.

And I don't wanna feel how my heart is rippin'

In fact, I don't wanna feel, so I stick to sippin'

And I'm out on the town with a simple mission

In my little black dress, and this shit is sittin'

I felt him watch me as I flirted with this new model of a man, who not only was absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous, but had a voice of smooth molten lava flooding my body with every word.

Just a heart broke bitch, high heels, six inch

In the back of the nightclub, sippin' champagne

I don't trust any of these bitches I'm with

In the back of the taxi, sniffin' cocaine

Drunk calls, drunk texts, drunk tears, drunk sex

I was lookin' for a man who was on the same page

Now it's back to the intro, back to the bar

To the Bentley, to the hotel, to my old ways

I felt his hand slip to my lower back as I stood at the bar of the event, the gorgeous stranger holding me close as I felt my ex’s eyes burning into the back of my head. The warmth of his body almost touching mine was distracting enough to forget what even asked me, watching his lips move with grace as I looked up at him through thick lashes. He leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “Save those seductive looks for later, when I take you home.” My legs tensed a bit as my tongue fell heavy and my mouth opened without a sound.

'Cause I don't wanna feel how I did last night

I don't wanna feel how I did last night

Doctor, doctor, anything, please

Doctor, doctor, have mercy on me, take this pain away

You're asking me my symptoms, doctor, I don't wanna feel

Our lips connected without hesitation as he had me against a wall in the nightclub, a corner near the bathrooms as we stepped away to talk easier. His hands roamed my body a bit before hoisting my thigh around his waist. His hand pulled me as he separated his body from mine and touched his tongue to his lip, staring over me as he stepped backwards towards the glowing red exit sign above the dark, metal fire door. His blue eyes made my head spin, or maybe it was the wine, but I followed like a lost puppy trailing a delicious new smell. My heart swelled as I saw a limousine waiting for us as he opened the door and helped me stagger into the low, long car.

Out of reach, out of touch, too numb, I don't feel no way

Toast up, so what? Street small, but it go both ways

So you'll run, yeah, but you'll never escape

Sunset in the maze (you're asking me my symptoms, doctor, I don't wanna feel)

His hands covered me all over as I gasped, already half undressed as he popped a bottle of champagne and poured a glass. The flashing lights of the city pass us by as he kisses down my chest, then sipping the flute and dripping some onto my bare breasts. The cold sensation catches me by surprise as the night continues to get hotter than I’d expected. My thoughts become tangled into a knot and stop all at once when he settles within me and takes my breath away. Nothing could have prepared me for this moment as he rocks our bodies together in the back of this limo.

I don't wanna feel how I did last night

I don't wanna feel how I did last night, oh

Doctor, doctor, anything, please

Doctor, doctor, have mercy on me

You're asking me my symptoms, doctor, I don't wanna feel

Fixing my clothing, he pulls my hand with a smile on his face out of the vehicle once we stop, inviting me up to his apartment. The large, expensive looking building stuns me for a moment before I pull through and shuffle to catch up with him. The journey from the lobby to his bedroom is a blur as he releases me from my expensive prison and kisses my throat as I lay naked in his silky sheets. His eyes travel over my body like a man lost in the desert, looking for a mirage of his perfect paradise. My eyes close as I feel him on top of me and the enjoyment continues as he eats me alive until I can’t help but haunt his halls with screams of pleasure. The fullness he creates inside of me makes me high, with no regard for any other person in the entire city. Finishing is a melody that burns itself into my memory as I watch his face change from imminent release to relaxation in seconds. His caring of my body and holding of my hand makes me awake with realization and I feel around for my purse, checking the time. His face goes to a sudden awareness and I look up, waiting for him to speak. “Forgive me, I guess I skipped a few steps in the courting process.”

Mm, lipstick smudged like modern art

I don't know where the fuck I am or who's drivin' the fuckin' car

Speedin' down the highway, sippin'

Mixin' pills with the liquor 'cah fuck these feelings

I left everyone I love on read (uh-huh)

Spilling secrets to the stranger in my bed (uh-huh)

I remember nothing, so there's nothing to regret (uh-huh)

Other than this 4-4 kick drum poundin' in my head

“My name is Loki.” And my brain ends the night there, forgetting everything from the fifth glass of wine until I woke up, which becomes something I appreciate as I gather my things and exit the apartment the next morning, without a single glance behind me and a single memory of sleeping with another world’s Prince of Mischief and Lies. For the better.

#loki #loki smut #loki of asgard #loki x reader #loki fluff #loki angst #marvel loki #marvel #escapism #music story #music fanfic #drefear playlist

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joelsfavoritegirl · 8 months

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summer mischief (Joel Miller x fem!reader)

warnings: smut!!, afab!reader, male masturbation, fingering, implied age gap (reader is in mid-twenties, Joel is early fifties), Joel makes you cum in his beer bottle (wow how did that get in here??), established relationship, low key sugar daddy!Joel???, modern!au, no outbreak yippie, reader is kind of oblivious at the beginning then turns into a tease, Joel can’t keep it in his pants

synopsis: Joel finds it difficult to concentrate on anything but you during your summer vacation.

word count: 4, 448 holy mother of christ

decided to change the name to “summer mischief”. 🤭 was planning on making this a oneshot but i suppose that idea went into the drain. also can we please get that shirtless Joel mod we’ve been talking about for months now thank you bye <33

( @whore-4-pedro this what you wanted?)

———————————————

swimming pool glimmering, darling

white bikini off with my red nail polish

watch me in the swimming pool, bright blue ripple’s

you sittin’, sippin’ on your black cristal, yeah

———————————————

The sweltering heat of the Texas summer makes you want to jump into an ice bucket.

At least that’s what you feel like doing right about now, as you stand in line to buy an ice cream at the mall. Joel is grumbling behind you about how he shouldn’t have let you drag him out of the house, how he would be better off at home.

“Oh, hush”, you retort. Your turn at the ice cream stand is about to arrive, and then the little kid in front of you drops his ice cream onto the tiled floor. “For fucks sake.”

The boy starts crying, his arms swinging up and down as he throws a tantrum in the middle of the mall. His mother tries to comfort him, her face cringing in embarrassment. He ends up crying louder.

“Screw this”, you mutter under your breath, turning away from the scene. You take Joel’s hand, dragging him away from the stand and heading to the escalator.

No matter. The real reason you had come to the mall was to shop for the beach. Bikinis, towels, anything you could need for your upcoming trip to the coast. Even though Joel had reassured you earlier, saying how you had everything you needed. He’s never owned a bikini in his life, what does he know?

“Are you serious right now?”, Joel grumbles, pinching his t-shirt and shaking it slightly, trying to cool himself off. “The one cold thing that exists in this entire shitty mall and you drag me away from that, too.”

You send him a glare. “Why do you need something to cool yourself off so badly? Isn’t your soul cold enough already?” you retort, the ghost of a smirk traces your lips.

He rolls his eyes, leaning against the railing of the escalator. “Keep talkin’ like that and I’m not buyin’ you anything.”

Which isn’t true, he’d buy you anything the moment you asked. But the drama queen in you needs to shine.

Your hand comes up to your forehead and you feign a gasp. “Oh, no! I’m so sorry, Mr Miller! Please forgive me!”

Joel shakes his head, chuckling lowly. “You’re gonna trip”, he nods at the escalator.

You spare a glance at the floor and holy shit the escalator is literally about to throw you off. Luckily, you manage to steady yourself, your feet planting themselves on the solid ground as you dust yourself off playfully.

He chuckles under his breath and rolls his eyes again, but you don’t notice. Before Joel can comprehend what’s happening, you grab his hand again, making a beeline for the store with bikinis and swimsuits in the window.

The options are numerous; from dark-colored one-piece suits to teeny-tiny tropical two-pieces that probably show more skin than your sexy lingerie back at home.

You walk into the store, which is bustling with people. Joel exhales happily l as the cool air from the AC blows over you both, providing you a smidge of relief.

Joel catches one look at your expression, the equivalent of a small child in a toy store. He pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Please tell me you won’t buy more than five.”

Your eyes are already searching for a suitable bikini. You flash him a small wink, your tone playful, “Can’t promise anything, babe.”

You faintly register that he grumbles something about you already having too many bikinis, but you promptly ignore him.

About 15 minutes pass of you simply browsing through most of the options. Finally, you grab three styles you like, your feet carrying you to the nearest changing room like a woman on a mission.

Joel trails behind you, not complaining about the heat (for once, thank Christ).

“I’m gonna go try these on, OK?” you look up at him, already opening the curtains of the changing cabin.

He finds your eagerness adorable. “Sure, sweets. I’ll be waitin’ for ya’ out here.”

You blow him a thankful kiss because it’s his bank account that’s going to be taking the blow of your shopping. But, anyway, he likes buying you things, he spoils you all the time. No big deal.

The first swimsuit is a simple, white two-piece. The bra is a halter top style, and the bottoms are tied at the sides. “Cute”, you think as you inspect it in the mirror. Your curves look sexy.

The second swimsuit is the same as the first. Same cut, same size, same shape, only this one has a flower print. It’s bright, and it brings out your curves, same as the first one.

The first two in comparison with the third one are child’s play.

This one looks… fucking hell, it looks good. It feels good.

The top is shaped like your everyday bra. It’s simple, it’s small. Except this one squeezes your tits so well that you almost find yourself drooling over your own curves. The bottom is a high-cut and it fits your figure perfectly, accentuating your hips and legs.

It’s colored in a bright, sunflower-like yellow.

You haven’t felt this hot. Like, ever.

So you decide that you need a second opinion. Maybe it’s the heat getting to you, maybe you’re hallucinating. But, oh my God, you feel so good in this and you never want to take it off.

And who better to ask than your loving boyfriend who’s waiting for you just outside the changing room?

“Psst. Joel!” you whisper-yell, hoping to God he was there and you weren’t just talking to yourself. Or a stranger.

You hear his familiar drawl. “What?” he asks.

“Can you come in here for a minute? I need a second opinion.”

He sighs, most probably pinching the bridge of his nose, as he usually does. Lazy fucker.

“Yeah, OK, fine” he replies.

You stand back, your attention turning back to your reflection in the mirror.

He carefully slips into the changing room, quickly pulling the curtain back so that no one can take a peek inside. He turns around, wondering what exactly you were debating on now. His hazel eyes meet your body in the mirror and holy fuck-

His heart partially stops beating, his eyes widen.

You’re fucking gorgeous.

The two small pieces of yellow cloth hug your curves so nicely. Your legs and your thighs and your ass look so… delicious.

“What do you think?” your voice brings him back to reality. “It feels so nice and I love the way it looks. You think I should get it?”

You turn around to face him and… holy fuck, your tits are so pretty.

He tries not to stare, he really doesn’t. But his brain is short-circuiting and blood is rushing to his already half-hard cock and he really wishes he could fuck you in this little changing room right about now.

But he can’t.

He shakes his head slightly, running a hand down his face. Fuck.

“It- it looks real nice, yeah” he manages. “If it feels good and you feel good in it… you should buy it. You look good” he nods, stuffing his hands in the front pockets of his shorts. He feels his cock strain slightly against the material.

“Great” you chirp, your gaze falling back to the mirror. “Then I’ll take it. Thanks, babe.” You send him a thankful smile.

He smiles back, slipping out of the changing room.

As the curtain falls back he breathes. He fucking breathes because he was so close to bending you over right then and there and fucking you good until you were screaming his name.

But there would be time for that later.

Now he had to make it through the mall without an obvious hard-on.

———————————————

He does finally make it home after a while.

“Jus’ wanna make sure we’ve got everything ready, y’know?” he had told you as you exited the store. “I can put your new stuff to wash while I’m at it.”

Thank Christ, you had bought his strange excuse. You didn’t pry, assuming he simply needed some alone time. So all you did was thank him for everything and peck him on the lips, going off to shop by yourself.

His sweet, oblivious girl.

He throws the bags containing your new swimsuits onto the bed as he enters your shared bedroom and makes a mental note to wash them when he’s done.

He strips himself and enters the shower, letting the cold water finally cool him down.

And then his mind wanders to you.

In that shitty little changing room.

In that small, yellow bikini.

And, fuck, he’s already hard again and he can’t stop picturing your ass, your tits, and your pretty curves.

And he can’t help it when his hand wanders down, smearing the length of his cock with the precum which drips from the tip. He fists himself slowly at first, imagining it was you. Your hands, your pretty mouth wrapped around him, taking his cock so well as you always did…

He picks up the pace, those pretty noises you make echo in his dirty mind. Your sweet moans as he spears you on his cock, his name falling from like a prayer from your pretty lips. The sweet taste of your pussy as he eats you out, making your thighs clamp around his head and your back arch off the bed.

Those foul thoughts are enough to make him cum. He grunts as his release paints the wall of the shower white, panting as his high washes over him.

This is gonna be fun.

———————————————

“So not true!” Ellie’s voice echoes as you walk up the steps to the rented house.

“Yes, it is!” you retort, your tone half-playful, half-serious.

The ride to the coast was long and uncomfortably hot. You stopped twice for gas, buying ice creams both times to have at least something to cool yourself off with. Tommy had complained every moment he was out in the sun, to which Joel had replied many times with “stuff it” and “quit whinin’, we’ll be at the coast soon enough”.

Poor Maria, you think. God knows how she survived that car ride, alone with probably the biggest complainer on the face of the Earth.

Meanwhile, you had managed to offend Ellie by saying that chocolate ice cream wasn’t that fantastic. To say she lost it at that would be an understatement.

“There are so many flavors that are ten times better than chocolate” you scoff as Joel unlocks the door to the house, Maria and Tommy trailing behind you.

“Yeah? Enlighten me.” She has her hands crossed over her chest, her gaze scrutinizing you with every word you say. You would laugh at her, but all you can do is sigh happily as you enter the cool house.

“Finally. One more minute and I would’ve gotten heatstroke out there” Tommy’s voice echoes in the large entrance. Maria glares at the back of his head.

“One more minute and my fist woulda stroked your face” you hear Joel grumble and you snicker quietly. The brotherly Miller love.

Ellie is already climbing the stairs, your conversation about ice cream flavors probably forgotten in her mind.

The house is nice, spacious. The ground floor is completely open, the kitchen, living room, and dining room are all connected. There seems to be some sort of elephant motif that decorates the inside; paintings of elephants adorn the wall, while the numerous cupboards and shelves have small figurines of elephants sitting all around.

It’s big, it’s cool, it has everything you could need. It’ll do.

“I call dibs on this room!” Ellie’s voice rings out from upstairs.

You pick your bag up, your feet carry you up the stairs. It’s simple; a long hallway stretches out in front of you as your feet find the wooden floor. Four doors sit ahead of you, two on one wall, two on the other.

You peek your head in the first door to the right. The room is simple, painted in white. A queen-sized bed sits in the middle of it, and a door in the corner leads to the bathroom.

“Wanna take this one?” you look up at Joel who just made it up the stairs, carrying two bags. You rush to help him, but he just brushes you off. Stubborn fucker.

He takes a look at the room, nodding. “Sure, this’ll do.”

Tommy’s voice booms from the room opposite yours. “Alright, who’s up for swimming?”

Maria smacks him on the head. Ellie laughs.

———————————————

About an hour later, after you’ve settled yourselves in the house, Ellie, (aided greatly by Tommy), manages to drag you all out to the beach.

You pick out your new, flowery two-piece, your flip-flops, and grab a towel on the way out.

The walk down is less than two minutes and you’re thankful for it. The house is perched on a hill, surrounded by trees, tucked away from the rest of the houses which sit directly in front of the ocean. “Better have privacy and peace than have children’s screams in your ear all day”, Maria retorts as Ellie whines about the walk downhill.

The beach isn’t really a beach, more a pavement that stretches out for a good mile or so, simply providing entrance to the water.

The water glistens brightly in the sun, clear, cool, and inviting. It looks too good to ignore.

So you set your towel down on one of the empty chairs, along with everyone else’s towels, and dip your feet into the water.

Heaven.

Tommy has already jumped in, laughing boisterously. Ellie follows him quickly after, an eager grin on her face.

You’re about to jump in after them when a large hand wraps itself around your waist. Your head snaps around quickly as you search for the person.

Joel chuckles lowly, his bare chest pressed against your back.

“You’re gonna snap your neck ‘f you keep twistin’ your head like that, sweets” he muses, his hand resting on your waist.

You huff. Sneaky fucker.

“You’re the one who scared me”, you retort, smiling cheekily up at him. “Now, you gonna let me swim or stay like this and roast in the sun?”

Another deep chuckle. “‘M not sure. Maybe I’ll just run away and steal you.”

His lips graze the shell of your ear and you have to remind yourself that you’re in a public place.

“Plus, you look too damn good in that bathing suit, sweets. Makes me wanna do things to you.”

You shake your head, chuckling. “Fuck you, Miller.”

“Lookin’ forward to it, hon”, he nips at your ear, pressing a quick kiss to your jaw. And just like that, his hand slips from your waist and he dives into the water.

You glare at him, shaking off the familiar feeling of his touch.

You jump into the water after him, sighing happily as the hot, sticky feeling of warmth finally washes itself off of your skin.

You stay in the water for a good half an hour; diving, swimming, simply enjoying each others’ company and the refreshment of the water.

Joel’s voice reaches your ears as you wrap your towel around yourself, fingers carding through your wet hair.

“D’you bring that little yellow swimsuit with ‘ya?” he questions, his tone lowered as he approaches you so only no one else can hear him.

You squint your eyes at him just barely. Since when was he interested in which bikini you took and left?

“My yellow bikini, you mean?” the corners of your lips barely turn upwards, smirking. “Why do you ask?”

He shrugs. “Jus’ askin’. You wanted my opinion on it and you seemed to really like it.”

You nod understandingly, not fully buying his excuse. “Yeah, I did. I’ll make sure to wear it, babe. Don’t worry.”

Your eyes drink him in for a split second. Salt and pepper hair wet and dripping onto his broad shoulders. His chest, dusted with short grey hairs, muscular and lean. Veiny hands grip his towel, his fingers curling around the soft material. You remember vividly how those same fingers curled inside your sopping cunt only a few nights ago, coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of you until your legs were trembling and your hands were weakly pushing him away, whining that it was too much.

Your eyes dart back to his handsome face and you flash him a cheeky smile.

Ellie groans next to you, her stomach growling loudly. “What’s for dinner?”

———————————————

Maria successfully finds some sort of a seafood restaurant with good reviews.

You settle for a simple maroon sundress, (even though Joel and Tommy plan picking up the food and bringing it back to the house). It doesn’t show too much, neither does it show too little.

You promptly decide to forget that it’s the same sundress Joel fucked you in last summer. Bent over the hood of his car after one of your date nights as he pounded into you from behind until you were screaming his name and squirting on his cock.

And you know damn well he remembers that night just as well as you do.

It’s your subtle way of teasing him. Always has been and always will be.

You descend the stairs, slipping on your flip-flops and running a hand through your humid hair. Ellie is sprawled over the couch, lazily flipping through the channels on the TV. You can see Maria on the balcony through the window, laughing as she talks on the phone with someone. Joel and Tommy are in the kitchen, their Southern drawls carrying through the house as they speak.

You walk over to the kitchen, reaching into the cupboard for a glass.

You totally don’t sway your hips any more than you usually would. Or arch your back just slightly more than needed as you grab the glass.

Luckily, Tommy leans against the counter, his back turned to you as he speaks with Joel. Joel, who’s got full view of every movement you make.

And, fuck, when his eyes fall onto your figure in that little dress…

The same dress he bent you over in last summer. When he ripped your panties off and hiked your dress up, watching as his cock disappeared into your slick folds as he fucked you.

After you’ve filled your glass, you walk out of the kitchen. Although not before giving him those eyes.

The ones that say “yeah, I know what I’m doing.”

Tommy’s voice saying that it was time to go grounds him. He shakes his head slightly, pushing the dirty thoughts away.

If you wanted to tease him that way, so be it.

After all… he wasn’t gonna let you have all the fun.

———————————————

You swear you’re about to throw a pillow in Ellie’s face because of how much she’s complaining.

“Where the hell are they?” the fourteen year old whines for the 50th time. “I swear I’m gonna to eat this shitty couch if they don’t- “

“Food’s here!” Tommy’s voice booms as the front door opens. Joel follows closely after him, shutting the door with his foot. They’re both carrying bags full of food, and you’re glad that Ellie’s finally shut up.

She jumps up from the couch, not wasting a second. Maria is already in the kitchen, grabbing plates and utensils. “You guys wanna eat outside?” she asks.

You lift yourself off of the couch, approaching Maria and grabbing the plates from her. “Sure”, you hum, “it’s not that hot outside right now. It’ll be nice.”

You settle yourselves on the patio table in front of the pool. The food is great, the company is even better.

Just as Ellie’s about to finish talking about something that Riley did last summer, Joel’s gestures at you all.

“Does anyone wan’ some beer? ‘Cause we jus’ bought a six-pack an’ it ain’t gonna drink itself.”

You, Tommy, and Maria nod at his suggestion. Ellie humorously adds, “Yes, please.” Joel simply scoffs, ruffling her hair as he stands up.

“Come on. Come help me with ‘em”, he taps you on the shoulder, an expression only you can recognise on his face.

Slick fucker.

“Sure”, you smile sweetly up at him. Your chair screeches as you get up, following him up the steps and back into the house.

The case of beers sits on one of the counters in the kitchen. Joel grabs a bottle opener (how he knew where it was, you don’t know) and cracks open four beers.

He offers you one, and you accept it. Your fingers brush against his own and fuck the tension is so thick you swear it’s starting to get hot again.

That familiar, smug look paints his face. Like he knows what he’s doing.

His bottle clinks against yours and he mutters a small “cheers”, his eyes never leaving yours.

He takes a swig. You do the same.

He sets his bottle down.

“Fuck this”, you think. You’ve got people waiting outside, you need to be quick.

So you grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him in.

His lips agains yours feel perfect. He tastes like beer with a faint touch of seafood.

His hands come to rest on your waist as he pushes you against the counter. You let out a soft “mmpf” sound as your back hits the marble. Your hands snake around his neck, tugging lightly on his salt and pepper hair in between your fingers.

“You know what you’re fuckin’ doin’, sweets”, he growls against your lips, pulling away quickly.

His mouth finds your neck, kissing and biting your soft skin. You whimper, throwing your head back so he has more space to work with.

One of his hands trails down, under your skirt. He pushes your panties to the side and-

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart”, he chuckles lowly. His finger ghosts your clit, picking up the slick that’s gathered around your hole, making you whimper. “You’re soaked. Ain’t you, pretty girl? Need my fingers to fuck you good?”

It’s that godforsaken southern drawl of his.

“Please Joel…” you whine. One of your hands grips the counter behind you, the other holds onto his bicep.

“What, sweets?” he questions, his hazel eyes making you feel small as he watches you. “Need me to take care of your pretty pussy? Use your words f’me, hon, come on.”

“Yes, yes, please Joel. Want your fingers”, you whimper as his thumb applies a small amount of pressure to your clit.

“Better be quiet then, sweets”, his lips ghost the shell of your ear. “Wouldn’t’ want anyone else hearing those pretty sounds, would you?”

He slips two thick fingers into your soaked hole. And, gods, does it feel good.

You gasp as he shoves them in until his knuckles prevent him from going any deeper. Slowly, he sets a pleasurable pace, his thumb ghosting over your clit.

“Joel, fuck-“, you stutter, biting your lip. Hard.

“What is it, sweets?” he asks, raising his brows innocently, although there’s a smug smirk on his lips.

Foul fucker.

You glare up at him and you’re about to say something, about to wipe that smug smile off his face. But then he curls his fingers inside your cunt and every thought you just had evaporates.

“Fuck- !” he slaps his free hand over your mouth, muffling your moans.

His fingers pick up the pace. A lewd squelching sound comes from the spot where he’s knuckles deep inside you. The knot in your stomach is steadily forming, only getting tighter with each foul word that comes from his mouth.

“Takin’ my fingers so well… this pussy’s made for me, darlin’.”

“This fuckin’ little dress… I should bend you over again jus’ to teach you another lesson.”

And yeah, you’ve been here for at least a couple minutes now and you hope to God that nobody’s thinking of coming to check up on you guys. But, fuck, Joel’s thumb is rubbing your clit again and he’s telling you to finish on his fingers and-

Your release washes over you like a warm wave. You arch your back, your loud moans muffled by his palm. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your legs shake as you cum all over his fingers.

You’re panting as you return to reality slowly. Joel pulls his fingers out of your cunt, bringing them up to your lips.

“Suck, darlin’.”

So you do. You open your mouth and he shoves his fingers in. The taste is tangy and sweet against your tongue as you swirl it across his digits.

You let go of his fingers with a small “pop” sound. A pleased smirk paints your lips as your eyes gaze at him.

And before you can even comprehend what he’s doing, he grabs his beer bottle and presses it against your hot core.

You gasp, surprised by the cold feeling. “Joel, what are you- ?”

He cuts you off. “Shh, it’s OK, sweets. Jus’ wanna taste you myself.”

And it’s foul. It’s so fucking foul.

But god it’s hot. The thought of him drinking your own cum mixed with his beer has your mind going hazy.

He collects some of your release, letting it drip into the bottle. When he’s pleased, he brings it up and swirls the liquid. And that smug smirk is still plastered across his face.

“Come on. We don’ wanna keep ‘em waitin’ any longer, do we?” his brows raise as he grabs another bottle.

And you’re about to grab the other two when you remember that you’re currently not wearing any underwear.

“Joel, hold up. Give me my panties back”, you chuckle, holding your hand out to him.

He steps back to you and presses a sweet kiss against your lips.

“No.”

Your eyes widen. No way in fucking hell he expects you to walk out there in a dress that barely reaches your mid-thigh without underwear.

But he does.

Fucker.

He pushes the door open, the two beers in hand. “Beers comin’!” he yells.

And so you follow him out, carrying the other two. The glass is cold against your hot skin, providing little to no relief.

You manage to sit down without flashing anyone, thankfully. You pass one of the beers to Maria, sipping on the other one yourself.

Nobody questions your overstay in the house.

Thank fucking God.

Your eyes drift over to Joel who sits opposite you. Whose eyes are already on you.

He brings the bottle up to his lips and takes a long swig.

And there’s that smug look again.

If he wanted to play this game, then good. That was more than fine with you.

Because it is so on.

———————————————

oh my sweet lord i’m posting at midnight. i’ve been travelling all day and wrote half of it in the car. it probably has a whole lotta mistakes but i’m just too tired to fix em rn.

this was my first time writing anything so pretty please go easy on me. if you have any tips or constructive criticism feel free to leave it in the comments, it’ll help a lot 🙏🏼

also lmk if you want part 2??? maybe??

hope you enjoyed. now i’m going to collapse into my bed ok bye <33

#joel miller #Joel miller smut #the last of us #joel miller imagine #smut #i’m proud of the beer bottle part #joel miller shirtless mod

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