#smutty but not full smut

[justkending]

Bullshit! How about a bet? (One-shot)

Summary: Who knew that being short would lead to such great benefits?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (shorter)

Word Count: 3900+

A/N: Once again, I dipped my toes into smuttier waters, but still am building up the courage to jump in fully... I have some announcements (life-wise) that I'm going to make soon, but I needed to write something after the week I had just to bring some happiness to my life, so here you are! I hope you enjoy :)

___________

I was adamant about finding some way to sue Tony Stark for placing the microwave at such an unnecessary height. 

I also planned to sue him for the emotional distress it had caused me this far with the teasing and mocking jokes the team landed on me when they watched me attempt to put food in it. 

Nat and I weren’t far from each other’s height, but either she didn’t use the microwave, or she was better at hiding when she did because I seemed to be the only one who got the quips thrown at me when I stood on the tips of my toes just to push something onto the turntable. 

To make the task harder, the door opened top to bottom like an oven instead of side to side like any normal version of the kitchen amenity did, making my arms stretch out as far as I could just to get whatever it was I needed to be heated up to actually go into the damn thing. 

Damn the rich for trying to be fancy where it was unnecessary!

Recently, I tried to adopt Nat’s efforts of never being seen doing the mundane daily act, and the last few times, I had been successful. My luck seemed to run out today...

Trying to make my task as quick as possible, I pulled the door down and stood on my tiptoes to push my now lukewarm coffee mug into the middle of the turntable. 

“You’re so close, Pixie,” I heard behind me, and I cringed, finding I was far from being in the clear. 

“Fuck off,” I grumbled, knowing the voice of the person the nickname had originated from. I accepted that the mug was in the microwave even if it wasn’t centered. 

“Those aren’t nice words,” Bucky retorted, and I could hear the smug grin on his face even if I didn’t bother to look over at him. 

“You’re an angry Pixie today,” Sam added, walking to the counter and grabbing a banana off the stand in the middle, and then going to the fridge for a drink. 

“I thought you guys were on a tactical mission,” I groaned, pushing the buttons that were also too high quickly to start the radioactive machine. 

When I turned around, Bucky was closer now but had propped himself on the side of the bartop of the counter that faced the seating area ahead. Sam was still head deep into the fridge, trying to decide on his drink of choice. 

“We were. Finished it early,” Sam hummed as he ducked his head to see all the varieties of sodas, waters, and juices Tony kept stocked. “Weren’t you supposed to be in a meeting?” 

“Canceled,” I answered shortly, glaring at Bucky, who seemed to still find my height funny as he grinned at me. “Stop looking at me like that.” 

“Like what?” he asked, playing coy. 

Instead of a response, I just sent him another hate-filled look. 

“Find a way to sue Tony yet?” Sam broke the stare-off we were having, and I didn’t process what he meant. 

“About what?” I looked at him.

“About the microwave being placed perfectly so that you look like a toddler trying to reach for the cookies on the top of the fridge,” Bucky answered for him.

I turned my head slowly and murderously to the brunette. 

“Out in the field isn’t the only place you can get killed,” I smiled, but there was no hint of joy or joking behind it—instead, a sadistic pull of my lips. 

“No threats,” he pointed at me with a warning Tony had started since forever ago, and I could see his shoulders tense even if he tried to hide the hint of discomfort. 

“Promises are different than threats,” I tilted my head with the smile still on my lips. 

“Stop that.” His body had ever so slightly leaned back. 

The microwave dinged before I could torment Bucky further, and I turned my head to look at it and then back at Sam. 

“I won’t replace your shampoo with nair if you get that for me,” I smiled, almost instantly turning the psychotic one into an innocent one. 

“Why would you do that, to begin with?” He asked, concerned, slowly moving to get my mug out of sheer fear. 

“I think you can take a decent guess,” I replied, watching him as he carefully brought the mug out and walked calculatingly to hand it to me. 

“Y/N,” he warned. 

“Hope you two have the day you deserve,” I skipped away, mimicking a child about to go prance through a field of flowers. 

“She scares me,” Sam whispered once I was out of the room. 

“Are we sure she’s not an evil serial killer on the side and just does this job to lessen her karma?” Bucky asked, their eyes still on the doorway I had left out of. 

—————————————-

“Bullshit!”

“I see they’ve started early,” Steve sighed, taking a tired sip of his coffee as he sat in the den where Bucky, Nat, Sam, and I were already up, causing chaos for the day.

“They got a bet going,” Sam explained while Steve sat beside him.

“What is it this time?” Steve questioned, looking between us three and keeping the lip of the mug close to his mouth.

“Bullshit!”

“Exactly that,” Sam smirked, grabbing his own cup of caffeine.

“Bucky claimed that Y/N couldn’t, and still hadn’t, beat him in Bullshit since our last Christmas party,” Nat said, joining on the other side of Steve with her own playing cards in hand, leaving him in the middle of the two. 

“I have beat him,” I mumbled, looking over my cards in hand as I debated on the next set to put down. “He just got the honorary win because we were called on a mission before I could put my cards down and go out.”

“If you didn’t get to play the winning hand, how did you win?” Bucky snarked, watching me carefully as I put two aces down. “Bullshit.” 

“Ha ha!” I pointed at him. “Pick 'em up, Buckaroo.” 

He rolled his eyes and looked down at the decent-sized pile of cards stacking up, seeing that I did, in fact, tell the truth and added them to his own hand. 

“Careful what you claim, Buck,” Steve retorted about more than one thing, only getting a middle finger in return from his friend, who stared at his new options. 

“There’s a larger bet hanging over this one,” Nat hummed, putting her two cards in before pulling her legs into a crossed position. 

“Yeah?” 

“If I win, he has to be my man-servant for the microwave,” I celebrated, putting down one three of clubs that I was lucky enough to have. My deck in hand was growing thinner and thinner. 

“And if not?” Steve asked. 

“If not, she can’t call me Buckaroo for five months,” Bucky mockingly sneered at me. 

“Actually, two weeks,” I shook my head, putting a card down. 

“If you’re so sure you’re going to win, why does it matter?” he said teasingly. I stuck my tongue out at him as a response. “Real mature.” 

“Just play your hand, Jackass.” 

He did, and on my turn, I went out.

“Hell, yes!” I jumped up and down, hands in the air, before doing a small victory dance. 

“How the hell?” Bucky looked absolutely flabbergasted by my win. “You had like ten cards left.” 

“Did I?” I cheered, showing my empty hands for effect. 

He turned to Nat, who had a grin on her face, and shrugged when she noticed his glare turned on her. 

“Don’t look at me. I played clean,” she laid her deck of cards neatly on the table and put her hands up in defense. 

“Fair win, Buck,” Steve laughed. 

“You’re my man-servant now,” I gleamed, dipping down to grab my mug of coffee and handing it to him. “Would you mind heating this up by chance? I forgot about it while I was busy kicking your ass.” 

“Yeah, because of how long it took you to do it,” he grumbled, not putting up a fight as he took it from my hand and stomped to the microwave passively. 

________________

Bucky’s POV

For the next week, Y/N multiplied her microwave use by a thousand. Things that didn’t even need microwaving were thrown in for two seconds sometimes, just to annoy me. 

She’d say stuff like, “Oh, perfect. It was just half a degree too cold,” or, “Careful, I burned my tongue last time 'cause you were too busy glaring at me to watch it. We don’t want to make that mistake again.” 

She even had me heat up Nat’s and Wanda’s food at one point, even though that wasn’t part of the bargain. Her reasoning should have had me leaving the room, but instead, Nat and Wanda had a nice glass of steaming apple cider in hand by the time I did leave. 

I was close to being done with it all and the constant nagging that accompanied it, so when I walked in and saw her in the kitchen today, I instantly turned on my heel and tried to run before she saw me… Luck wasn’t on my side...

“Oh, Buckaroo!” That name had multiplied its use as well... “I need to pop the popcorn for movie night, and I could use the help!”

I could have kept walking and brushed it off as if not hearing her, but no one was dumb enough to believe that. Damn my super hearing… And as annoyed as I was, I was a man of my word. I made a bet, and I lost. I only had six more days, eight hours, and 28 more minutes to go.

“Ten seconds at a time,” I muttered under my breath as I turned my direction back to the kitchen and stomped slowly to the microwave. 

I had been coming in here for my own hidden snacks for movie night and forgot that most of the team would be here for this night’s movie marathon. It had been a while since we all had some free time together, and even if the new chore had become irritating, Y/N was using it for good tonight by making sure everyone had their favorite popcorn in hand for the trilogy we were watching. 

“Why do you put all the work on yourself when they can come in here and make a bag themselves?” I asked, leaning on the counter where she was organizing the multiple varieties of popcorn we had stocked. She was measuring to make sure that everyone’s favorite was accounted for.

“Why not? It’s not hurting me,” she shrugged as if it was common sense and I was asking a dumb question. “Why do you pick the same two types of candy every time we have a movie night?” she shot back, looking at me and slightly nodding to the microwave. 

I took the message as I saw the timer count down from three and moved to grab the finished bag inside. 

“It’s a comfort food,” I argued my answer. 

“Exactly, and this is their comfort food. Plus, I don’t know, it’s one less step they have to map out. It’s already an exhausting part of our job having to think of the next step constantly, and it doesn’t bother me to do, so why not take an extra few actions so they don’t have to,” she simplified.

She handed me a prepped bag, ready for the microwave next. 

I took it and went back and forth for a while as I thought of her answer. 

I had learned over the years that Y/N’s love language had been acts of service, whether that was making sure that our favorite cereals were on the shopping list so we wouldn’t run out, or offering a blanket or pillow when she came into the same room as you before she got comfortable herself. 

We were almost always constantly tired from our jobs and just the general weight of the world on our shoulders some days. Having someone make popcorn for you on an off day was just one less action to do, and Y/N did more things to help us in that area than I had even tried to notice.

I had seen her acts of service being done, but mainly out of spite of not being one of the people who received them. Not because I wanted her to do things for me, more so the thought behind it. 

We bickered and got on each other’s nerves a lot, more so just to poke at her and see that fire in the pixie’s eyes on my end, but I didn’t get this kind of treatment as often. I had accepted it at this point, but the few times she had extended that kind of care to me, it felt like burning a candle on a fall day after deep cleaning for eight hours. Something about it put you at peace and made you feel even more at home. 

Maybe this deserved a conversation with her, even if I was terrified to wander into those grounds. 

We had quietly shuffled around the kitchen, and I had taken on the job as her co-chef as I grabbed multi-colored popcorn bowls to empty the bags into and organize them according to type. 

“Peter likes the bowl that looks like the Death Star cut in half,” she pointed at one of the bowls I had pulled down. “Tony got it for him for Christmas last year, and he uses it every movie night.” She smiled as she turned back to grab one of the last bags from the microwave. 

She was saying something about adding the extra-extra movie butter popcorn bags to that bowl, but I was already moving to her side to grab the bag that was just out of reach from her fingertips in the microwave. 

Her back molded into my chest as I reached over her, pulled the brown paper bag out, and handed it down to her. I wasn’t massively bigger than her, but the nickname Pixie held its title well. 

“I had it,” she looked up at me from behind, and damn it, if that didn’t stir something in me. 

The intimate position had me feeling a new kind of warmth, different from the subtle glow of a candle in a pristine room. Instead, a weird and fuzzy feeling of realization made goosebumps form up my arms, but I didn’t quite understand what it was. 

Was this a form of anxiety I hadn’t felt yet?  I snapped out of it when I noticed I had stayed there a beat too long, and Y/N looked worried.

“We made a deal,” I said, grabbing the last bag to pop out of her hand and placing it in the microwave. “I’m a man of my word,” I added, clearing my throat and reminding myself out loud that that was the only reason I was not moving from my spot with her back in my chest and our bodies practically molding into the others. 

“You really hold up your end of the bargain,” she smiled and ducked under my arm, immediately leaving me in the cold. 

I snapped out of the headspace I was thrown into without a choice and shook my head as I helped her finish the last few tasks before accompanying her to the movie den. 

My days were almost up with being Y/N’s personal microwave-er, but for whatever reason, there was this new realization I had that made the excuse of being near her in this way not as frustrating.

I made it an excuse to try and get closer to her again and again, and not just for kitchen amenity requirements, but anytime she couldn’t reach something, which I was learning was a lot. 

Any form of aid, like trying to get a box from the top of the pantry, trying to reach a book or file on the top of a shelf, or trying to put a mug back when she was emptying the dishwasher. 

Currently, I had walked by her room, door open, and saw her struggling to hang a new picture frame on her wall, being just a few inches too short as normal. 

“Fucking hell.” I heard her mumble as she looked around for a chair. 

Before she could move from her spot, I was already behind her, hanging it to the spot she was replacing. 

“Oh, thanks,” she said, but the tone in her voice wasn’t a grateful one. “What is going on with you?” She turned and crossed her arms, looking up at me while I centered the gold frame before pulling away. 

“What do you mean?” I cleared my throat, not sure if I even knew what I was doing. 

“Don’t play coy,” she leaned back on her heel, anchoring her stance at me. 

“We made a deal,” I answered, even though it was a half-assed one, but it was better than admitting what I was feeling. Or at least I thought it was…

“For the microwave. Mind you, that ends tomorrow,” she pointed out. “What’s with all the extra help suddenly?” 

I hesitated, not sure what route I wanted to take. 

“I realized you have more things you struggle with than just in the kitchen. I figured you’d be happy to be getting a bang for your buck.”

“Bang for my Buck?” she said back with a raised eyebrow, and I heard it even if I didn’t mean it that way. Or did I?

“Yeah, getting what you bargained for,” I swallowed thickly, seeing a new fire in her eye I didn’t understand. 

“Bang for my buck, or are you trying to get a bang for your buck?” she said softly, taking a step forward. 

I froze as our chests were inches from touching, and she looked up at me in a way that would make any man melt. 

“It was the bet,” I cleared my throat, and the sound of something in the hall broke our attention from each other. “I should go check on that,” I stepped back, stabbing my thumb behind me but failing to pull my eyes from hers. 

“Should you?” she shrugged, with a sly smirk on her lips. 

I couldn’t help but stare when her tongue slowly came out to wet her lips. When I looked back at her eyes, all traces of annoyance were gone, and elements of lust took over. 

“You hate me,” I stated, knowing- or at least thinking I knew- that this feeling of chemistry would ruin us if we gave into it.  

“I don’t recall ever saying that,” she tilted her head to the side, never breaking eye contact with me.

“Actions speak louder than words,” I swallowed when the two-inch gap between us became one. 

“Why so nervous?” she ignored me. 

I hesitated because there were a million things going through my brain to answer why I was stiffening at the change in energy between us. 

“We shouldn’t-”

“Actions speak louder than words, though. And hate to break it to ya, but your actions have been showing otherwise.” Her fingers brushed my chest, and I held back a shiver that threatened to escape. “I’ll stop if you want,” she offered, halting her hand in the middle of my sternum and looking up at me before smiling mischievously again. “But you have to say something.”

My jaw tensed, and I saw her trying to read the emotions on my face. Unlucky for her, she had just flipped a switch I don’t think she meant to touch. 

I immediately turned and, with determination, walked to the door. I heard a subtle “pft” behind me like she was disappointed in my choice, but she was sorely wrong if she thought I was leaving now. She didn’t get to look at me with those eyes, bite those damn lips, and make threats she didn’t plan on following through with. 

With a quick slam, I bolted the door handle and turned to look at her from my spot. 

Now I had the upper hand, and her eyebrows were raising. 

“It’s not nice to make threats,” I said lowly and took slow and careful steps closer. I could see her go rigid now. “Unless, of course, this is actually one of your promises. Either way, don’t say something you’ll regret following through with.” 

“Should I regret it?” she hummed, and even if she looked more relaxed, I could tell she was still trying to read me and couldn’t quite follow if I was serious or teasing her back. 

“How good is your judgment?” I asked, doubling my stride until my hands were on her hips, and she was pinned to me. A sharp intake was the instant response I got from her. 

“I’m starting to wonder if it’s losing its edge right about now…” Her chest heaved in quick motions, but she tried to act as if unphased by the proximity. 

“I’ll stop right now,” I mimicked her words from earlier, but not without lowering my face to hers and stopping mere centimeters from her lips. “But you have to speak up.” 

Her breath was on my lips as her own parted, waiting for clarity to come back to her, but she stayed looking over my features, debating all her choices. 

“Answer me this,” her hands slowly and delicately took my forearms as she held me in place, our hips brushing each other in close proximity. My hands couldn’t help but squeeze in a possessive manner. “When did you realize it?”

“Realize what?” Our nearness made the tips of our noses brush, and the heat between us grew with each passing second.

“That you wanted this?” Her hands traveled up to my elbows, and she needily pulled me closer, causing our lower halves to slam in friction. 

I stifled a low moan, even if it took all the willpower in my body to do so. 

“Darling.” One of my hands on her waist moved to her lower back, and I pulled her in enough for our chest to connect next. The other hand released to come up and cup her jaw. “I’d be lying to you and myself if I said it hasn’t been a daydream of mine for a while.”

She tried to hide her smile by biting the inside of her cheek, and my thumb brushed over the movement. 

“It’s taken you fucking forever to do something about it,” she replied breathily. 

“Made it damn hard to know the feelings were mutual, doll,” I said back, looking down at her lips and keeping my attention there for a second longer to prove my point. 

“Where’s the fun in easy?” she said, pulling me into her, and our lips crashed without hesitation. 

I was hungry for something I’d been starved of for far too long, and the feeling seemed to be reciprocated on her end because the next thing I knew, we were pulling and tearing at each other’s clothes like they were on fire, and we had seconds to live before they consumed us. 

“We should make more bets,” she said breathlessly as she moved feverishly to undo the buttons on her jeans.

“I agree, Pixie,” I huffed, throwing her shirt off before moving to take mine off next. 

“I bet you can’t make me-”

“Oh, there are going to be a lot of things I’m gonna make you do after waiting this long. No bet’s necessary…” 

I pushed her back on the bed, and she fell back on her elbows, looking up at me with wide eyes and a blushed complexion. 

“I like the way you talk, Barnes. Now show me instead of telling me.”

​​​​​​​​​​

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @death-unbecomes-you @mythos-writes​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​  @srrymydood​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @xa-dia​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @redhairedfeistynerd​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @morganclaire4​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @connie326​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @captain-asguard​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @mollygetssherlockcoffee​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @livstilinski @basicallylool​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @starryeyeseunbyul​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon​ @lauravicente​ @kakakatey​ @traceyaudette​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @sandlee44​ @thorne93​ @thefaithfulwriter1​ @essie1876​ @greyeyedsmile14​ @capsiclehan​  @xostephanie​ @averyrogers83​ @awesomenursingstudent​ @gh0stgurl​ @cs-please​ @jjlevin​ @rainbowkisses31​ @deannotmoose​ @their-bibliophile​ @kitkatd7​ @willowbleedsonpaper​ @mariaenchanted​ @snffbeebee​ @couldabeenamermaid​ @rebekahdawkins​​ @alyispunk​​ @billyseye @hallecarey1​​

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker​ @charmedbysarge​ @jbarness​ @bellamy-barnes​ @katiaw2​ @aikeia​ @stopjustlovethemcu​ @enchantedbarnes

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader one shot #justkending #marvel one shot #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x shorter reader #justkending bucky barnes #marvel #marvel oneshot #bucky barnes x reader insert #smutty but not full smut #slow burn one shot

[roguelov]

I have no story but just a scene I want to share with Shanks

Like obviously him drinking with his crew celebrating the night in a new town, and you are trying to rein them in (more Shanks than anyone). Shanks is constantly saying ‘oh come on, sweetheart, one more drink!’

And you’re like ‘no, it’s late, and we have to leave early tomorrow’

He doesn’t listen. He’s already ordering another round of shot for him and his crew (and even one for you). He passes it over like ‘come on, just one more’. You roll your eyes and quickly throw your drink back not even bothering to taste it. Shanks however still cheers you on, and throws his shot back. Before you can stop him, he orders another. You groan out of frustration at the red haired man. So, when the drink comes, you quickly snatch it away from him

You: Shanks, we’re leaving now

Shanks: come on love just one -

You: you’ve been saying that all night

Shanks: I swear this time

You tap on the glass, mumbling under your breath: and you said that 20 minutes ago

Then an evil idea comes to mind, one that should get the red haired man to follow you back to the ship

You: one more drink? Then we go back?

Shanks oblivious to your plans, nods eagerly: yes, yes, I swear, sweetheart

You: then open up

Shanks blinks, but listens. He throws you a cheeky smile, believing he was getting his way. He tips his head back, parting his lips. You throw the shot back into your mouth. Shanks almost whines but is soon silenced. You grab his face and heatedly kiss him. The alcohol then trickles down his throat. His hand latches onto your hips, drawing you close as he groans into the kiss. Your tongue swirls around ensuring his tastes every single drop from your lips. Pulling away, he is utterly breathless but a new clarity shines in his eyes.

Shanks smirks: I think it’s time we go back to the ship

You hum: interesting what a lovely idea

#will probably make into a full smutty story later #but for now #I need to get this idea out of my head before I scream #one piece #one piece live action #opla #shanks #red haired shanks #one piece shanks #opla shanks #shanks x reader #smut

[just-french-me-up]

If you haven’t already gotten “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” for a dream x reader prompt, that is a. criminal because b. the possibility of jealous dream? incredible

Rating : M / E  Light Smut & Angst

Author’s note : We’re going by Nada rules AKA “The Endless can’t be fully intimate with a mortal otherwise tragedy will befall said mortal” because it makes the tension *chef’s kiss*

Also, for all intents and purposes, feel free to picture Sam Smith’s Unholy playing in the background during that one part (you’ll know the one, trust me)

Also also : Nameless 3rd person Reader, no (Y/N)

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

There were many things Dream of the Endless did not care for in this twenty first century Waking world. Single use plastics. Turnstiles. Increasingly complex and flat communication devices. The energy humanity put into destroying its own world to benefit but a select few. And nightclubs.

The appeal of nightclubs befuddled him. Cramped spaces filled with loud booming music, blinding stroboscopic lights, bodies flushed against each other, the sweat and sultriness of it all. A place fit for Desire, not the Lord of the Dreaming.

Yet, there he was, his back to a dark wall, his presence barely noticed by those surrounding him, his gaze fixed on the dancefloor. Yes, nightclubs were a ridiculous and tasteless invention, but he could bear it. As long as got to see her dance.

She had begged him to join her before, many times, to no avail. He much prefered to be a spectator. And what a spectacle it was.

Under the lights, her dress shone like a thousand stars, shimmering, burning in the darkness. Her skin was painted with flashes of ever-changing colours, hues shifting over her in a bewitching dance of their own. She was nothing short of mesmerising.

Which, to his utmost displeasure, he was hardly the only one to notice.

Seduction seemed to have been reduced to its bare minimum in the last century. Gone were the days of courting; now men simply hovered around women in confined places, vaguely swaying left and right to catch their attention. Dream would have found it laughable, had a man not closed in on his lover.

She was quick to notice, taking a subtle, yet notable sidestep to thwart his advances, turning her back to him. Oblivious to her refusal, the man came closer still. Dream clenched his jaw, his eyes intently following the man's hands. His crude fingers ghosted over her spine, travelling down the small of her back. Dream tensed. The man lowered his hand, seeking flesh.

The loud music covered a sharp pained shriek.

“Man, what the f-”

“I think that is quite enough,” Dream said, his voice low and threatening as his grip on the man’s wrist tightened even more. He yanked him back, letting go of him once he stood at a reasonable enough distance. The man stared at him with a mix of confusion and anger, his other hand massaging his sore wrist. For a second, he seemed to steel himself for a fight, before retreating to another corner of the dancefloor.

“I could have dealt with him.”

“You certainly would have,” Dream agreed, his eyes glowering at the man until he was out of sight. 

A warm hand settled on his chest, soothing the tension in his body somewhat.

“Finally decided to join me, then?” she gently teased, in an attempt to distract him further. Dream blinked slowly at her. Specks of glitter glistened on her cheekbones. Gods, she looked exquisite.

“I’m afraid I have yet to be convinced. Although, perhaps, it would keep these vultures away.”

His hand itched to settle on the small of her back, where the stranger’s hand had been. To keep her close, he told himself, although he knew it was nothing but a half-truth.

“I told you,” she soothed. “I can deal with one man and his delusions.”

Dream let out a humourless huff.

“There is far more than one man having unconscious wanton thoughts about you.”

His lover frowned, taken aback.

“Morpheus... Is this-. Are you-? Are you jealous?”

He did not answer. What was there to say? How could he word the torment it caused him, to know other men desired her? Men who could have her. Men who would not doom her to ruin if their let their desires get the best of them?

Her hand traveled down his chest to link her fingers with his. She gave his hand a soft squeeze. If physical touch in public was not his way, he welcomed it, for once. For the comfort of it. For the warmth.

“They’re nothing.”

She flashed an encouraging smile, tugging slightly at his arm.

“Let’s go, shall we?”

“You were enjoying yourself!” Dream protested.

“Perhaps, but I’ve decided I would also enjoy myself at home.”

“My love-”

The rest of his sentence was drowned in another boom, as she walked off the dancefloor, pulling him forward. He let her lead, thankful to be freed from the stifling atmosphere soon. As she walked on, he caught himself gazing at her, wondering what she would have done, had it been him touching her on that dancefloor. There was nothing unconscious about his wanton thoughts.

They made their way to an empty corridor leading to the exit, its walls painted red by the dim lights hanging overhead. The sequins of her dress shone like a beacon in the low light. Otherwordly. It was not anger raging in Dream’s chest anymore. It was something deeper. Wilder.

He tugged on her arm, stopping her in her tracks. Pulling her against him, he lead her to a wall, resting her back against it.

“It is not jealously I feel, love of mine,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over hers. “Jealousy is a trifle thing, a childish thing.”

His hands slowly slid up her thighs, delighting in the heat of her skin. Their eyes met in the darkness.

“It is envy I suffer from. I envy the hands of every man who has ever touched you.”

His own hands ignored the hem of her dress, pulling the fabric up until he uncovered the top of her thighs, his fingers digging into her skin. He could feel her shivering at the touch, her chest rising against his. The heady scent of her perfume made his head spin.

“I envy every man who has ever given you pleasure.”

“Morpheus...”

His fingertips met the fabric of her underwear. His breathing hitched as he felt her legs shift slightly, inviting him closer. How easy it could be. How natural it would be to fall into this embrace and take her, love her, pleasure her right there. To listen to her moan his name and to answer with hers. How good, utterly perfect it would be, for an eternal second, until the Universe rained down its fury upon them. 

Dream swallowed hard and lowered his gaze. Reluctantly, his hands slid back down her legs, smoothing down the fabric of her dress. He could feel the tension melt away from her body.

“Forgive me,” he whispered witsfully, pressing his forehead against hers.

She raised a hand to his cheek, holding him close.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” she breathed out

“I have been reckless.”

She lowered her fingers under his chin, coaxing him into looking at her.

“Take me home, yeah?”

“Of course.”

Send me a prompt? [1]  [2]  [3]

#the sandman #sandman #dream of the endless #dream #dream x reader #dream x oc #dream x y/n #morpheus x reader #morpheus x y/n #I GUESS #spoiler alert she does have a name a a full back story but hey that'll be for another time #i've written an awful amount of fics set in a club for someone who's never set foot inside of one #there's something about the LIGHTS I guess #also if Dream doesn't worship the ground his lover walks on then what's the point #also i kinda like independent!reader who has a regular life and also loves her endless lover to bits #he doesn't particulary understand EVERYTHING she likes doing but hey #he's there for the ride in the name of LOVE i guess #just wait until that dweeb figures out he can fuck in the Dreaming consequence free #smut #smutty things #KINDA #dream's a mess because the tension's getting too much #and you gotta love that in an endless man #my writing #mine

[enoughtotemptme]

hold me like a grudge

When Jason cheats and blames his infidelity on Chrissy refusing to sleep with him, step one is to break up with him. Step two, obviously, is to jump Jason’s least favorite person in the world: Eddie Munson.

Given that Eddie’s had a stupid crush on this girl for years, well. He’s not about to say no.

Chapters: 1/5 Rating: Explicit Relationship: Chrissy Cunningham/Eddie Munson Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, Porn with Feelings, First Time, Sexual Inexperience, Dirty Talk, Crushes, Fluff, POV Alternating

Chapter One

“Chrissy? Angel? Say something. Come on, say something, don’t just sit there and say nothing.”

She stares at him. “What do you want me to say, Jason?” He’s still got lipstick on his mouth. It’s red.

She doesn’t wear red lipstick. Her mother says it washes her out. And that only tramps wear red lipstick.

She doesn’t think Linda Carlisle is a tramp. She usually thinks Linda Carlisle is smart, and pretty, and that she has a beautiful voice when she sings in the choir at church. However, it is Linda Carlisle’s red lipstick all over Chrissy’s boyfriend's mouth.

Chrissy is pretty sure that Linda Carlisle’s red lipstick is all over her boyfriend’s dick too. She’s pretty sure that’s what she saw in the backseat of Jason’s car when she noticed it outside of the movie theater.

Jason fidgets uncomfortably, avoiding her gaze. “Come on, angel. I’m not serious about her. It’s just, you know.”

“No,” she says. “I don’t. Enlighten me.”

His pleading look begins to war with a scowl. “You know. You’re never interested in, uh. Doing anything. Together.” When she stays silent, he hurries to add, as if she hadn’t understood the first time, “Physical. And it’s fine that you want to wait until we’re married, angel, but—but a guy’s got needs, you know?”

“Oh,” Chrissy says. She keeps her voice very, very light. “So…you got Linda to suck your dick because I wouldn’t put out?”

He sputters and goes as red as the lipstick. “Jeez, Chrissy! There are people around!”

There are—she’d gone to see Ferris Bueller’s Day Off with the girls from the squad to get out of the summer heat, and they’d all scattered as soon as they’d realized what kind of delicate situation Chrissy had found Jason in. But the other theater must have just finished, and people are spilling out onto the sidewalk just down from the alleyway spot where Jason’s car had been parked.

Chrissy recognizes Mr. Clarke, hand in hand with Ms. Kelly. A few kids from the swim team. And then—Eddie Munson, long, wild hair flying as he whirls to face his friends, talking a mile a minute and gesturing broadly with hands that glint silver in the evening sun.

[read more on ao3]

#hellcheer fic #hellcheer fanfic #eddissy fic #eddissy fanfic #hellcheer #stranger things #enoughtotemptme writes fic #it is at least as slutty as the graphic makes it look #if u want the full list of smutty actions click through to ao3 to see the tags #i mean technically the smut starts in chapter 2 but anyway hi enjoy

[seokmattchuus]

Once I master how matthew can soft dom, it's over for you bitches 😤

#dumb fuck ted talk #def a soft dom #puppy eyed soft dom #'be a good girl and do it for me' soft dom #the praises he'd give uGh #once i get it right i'm def making 'him as a dom' like i did with others #it might be more fluffy than smutty tho bc i have yet to have full fledged smut thoughts about him #he's just so fluffy i can't #if anything i'm thirsty for cuddles #seok matthew #zerobaseone #zerobase1 ? #zb1

[roanniom]

Does anyone have feral thots for me today? I’m in a criminally horny mental state and would love anyone to hit me with sexy Eddie or Steve (or both 👀) thots

My inbox is open ✨

#eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut #steddie x reader smut #I can’t write full requests because I’m working and have 40 things in drafts anyway lol #but scream with me please!!!!! #short and smutty!!!!

[kirayaykimura]

marriage of convenience au

Lili took a lot of convincing to agree to marry Soo-Won. There were just a lot of reasons to say no. Reasons she did say no three separate times before she caved. The first was that he was…Soo-Won. He was gentle and nice and got along with her father, which was frankly appalling. The other, more hidden parts of his personality - the icy ruthlessness and the fact that he murdered her best friend’s father - made him even less appealing as a life partner. The second reason she refused to marry him was because it was not a love match. Not that she would ever admit it out loud, but there was a time in her life when she had vowed to eschew politics and only marry someone she truly loved and couldn’t live without. It was a silly goal, but she did feel a pang of guilt over letting her ten year old self down by agreeing to marry for logistics rather than love. Reasons three through ten involved Soo-Won’s position as king.

The fact Lili was betrothed to the king was the exact reason she was forced to skulk through the halls of the palace, avoiding a certain advisor and very much regretting the fact that she had not refused the engagement a fourth time.

A flash of black at the end of the hall that couldn’t be anything but Kye-Sook’s bleak-ass robes had her diving for the first door to her left. She slipped inside Soo-Won’s office, shutting the door as quickly and quietly as possible, leaning her back against it for good measure. She wasn’t delusional enough to assume her weight could hold off a grown man attempting to push his way into the room, but she would certainly die trying.

With her back against the door, she belatedly realized the room was already occupied. Her hand flew to her mouth to stifle a startled yelp.

Soo-Won watched her, a little curious and a little amused.

“What are you doing here?” Lili hissed, trying to get her breathing under control.

Soo-Won’s amusement only grew.

“This is my office,” he said.

“Yes, I know that. You’re supposed to be in a meeting.”

“It finished early.”

“Well, good for you.” Then, “Sorry, I guess. For bursting in on you.”

“That’s alright. Rough day?”

“You have no idea.”

He motioned for her to take a seat which she accepted with minimal fuss. She would lose her guardpost at the door, but if anyone was going to be a good buffer against Kye-Sook, it was going to be Soo-Won.

“Would you like some tea?” he asked. He flipped an unused teacup right-side up on a serving tray to his left and began to pour.

“Is it cold?”

He spared her a glance to ask, “Why would I offer you cold tea?”

“I just got here. How would I know how long it’s been sitting out?”

“I can assure you it’s still very warm. Be careful with it, please.”

If she focused, she could just barely make out steam coming off the top of the tea as he set the cup down in front of her. Though it was mid-morning, the end of the year was nearing and the chill in the air took longer and longer to dissipate each day. The heat she could leach from the cup was a welcome relief for her bare fingers.

“Are you hiding from Kye-Sook again?” Soo-Won asked.

“Your advisor,” she said, using his title like a curse, “has been following me all morning.”

“Any idea what he wants this time?” Soo-Won asked from behind the lip of his own cup of tea.

Lili looked him dead in the eyes and said, “He wants to talk about sex.”

Soo-Won choked on his tea.

“Procreation,” Lili said over his hacking. “Making babies.”

“What?” Soo-Won asked hoarsely.

“He has thoughts, Soo-Won. So many thoughts about the future heir to the throne.”

The future heir that was very far in the future. She knew logically that it would be their duty to do all that at some point, but it was like any responsibility Lili didn’t want: she was going to avoid even thinking about it for as long as possible. And then a little longer after that. 

“Oh,” Soo-Won said.

That didn’t sound surprised enough for Lili. He sounded entirely too calm for her current state of utter torture.

“What do you mean oh?” Lili asked.

“He,” Soo-Won said, “does this a lot. Having a legitimate blood heir makes the succession process easier to navigate.”

“Does he talk to you about your moon cycles?”

Soo-Won choked on nothing this time.

“Tell him all conversations about heirs go through you from now on,” Lili said. “I don’t want him even speaking to me, let alone about that.”

“If I could talk him out of things he’s set his mind to, my life would be much easier.”

Lili gave him the darkest look she could muster.

It must have worked because Soo-Won added, “But I’ll see what I can do.”

“You do that.”

She finally took a sip of the tea in front of her. It was slightly sweet and floral. Was there enough to drown Kye-Sook in? She’d make a valiant effort to find out.

“Give me your hand,” Soo-Won said. He reached his hand out, palm up, across the desk and various papers strewn about. There was probably some method of organization at play, but she had no idea what it was. Just like she had no idea why he would want her hand.

“What are you going to do with it?” she asked, eying his hand warily.

His fingers twitched in invitation. “Hand, please.”

Frowning, she slid her hand into his. It was warmer than hers, and she was very upset to admit deep in the recesses of her mind that it felt even nicer than the warm teacup. Her fingertips brushed the inside of his wrist, heel of her palm stopping halfway down his fingers. She could feel a callous at the base of his forefinger. A few more dragged rough on her skin as he curled his fingers around the base of her thumb in a very strange approximation of holding hands. It was as jarring as ever to feel the physical evidence that he was not nearly as soft as she had once assumed. Calluses formed from expert knowledge of deadly weapons contrasted with the almost featherlight hold he had on her and the gentle way he held her gaze. His gaze was a reason she’d once rejected his proposal; the curious dichotomy of his demeanor and actions was a reason she’d stuck around long enough to accept.

Soo-Won squeezed her hand gently once and said, “I’m sorry you’ve had such a hard morning.”

Lili snorted.

“You are welcome to hide in my office any time.”

“No, it’s fine,” Lili said with a dramatic sigh. “He has to give up eventually, right?”

Judging from Soo-Won’s grimace, she did just as poor a job convincing him as she had herself.

As if summoned, they heard two curt raps at the door before Kye-Sook let himself into the room.

“Your Majesty, I-“

Kye-Sook paused mid-sentence as he took in the unexpected scene before him.

“Stop,” Lili deadpanned. “Get out. We’re creating that heir you won’t stop terrorizing me about.”

Kye-Sook barely missed a beat before he said, “I certainly hope not. That would throw off the wedding timeframe catastrophically.”

Oh no, Lili mouthed at Soo-Won, rolling her eyes. She watched in satisfaction as the corners of his lips twitched in a repressed smile.

“In any case,” Kye-Sook continued, “it is not the best time of the month for you-“

“I will kill you,” Lili snapped as Soo-Won said, more politely but a tad more forceful than normal, “Kye-Sook, could you give us a few minutes alone, please?”

Kye-Sook exited the room with a bow.

“My first act as queen will be to fire him,” Lili said as soon as the door shut behind him.

Soo-Won hummed noncommittally.

“Okay,” Lili said. “I’m leaving now. Time to find a new hiding place.”

“Are you sure? You can stay as long as you’d like.”

“No, it’s fine. I have books to return to the library before Min-Su gives me those tragic eyes of his. It’s like he thinks I’m going to steal the books.”

Speaking of eyes, Soo-Won had bags under his. This was not an uncommon occurrence, but they looked especially dark today, like he hadn’t slept in a long while. She had no idea why couldn’t - or wouldn’t - keep a normal sleep schedule, but there were quite a few things she knew he was keeping from her. She found herself both intrigued by what he kept hidden and scared to know what he felt must stay private after everything she did know about him.

“You look exhausted,” she said. “You should take a nap.”

Though she couldn’t force him to tell her why he had such a contentious relationship with sleep or what he was keeping from her, she could try forcing him to take care of himself. She didn’t actually want to be the queen of Kohka, after all. If he left her to rule because he didn’t take care of his health and died, she would never forgive him.

“I don’t think I have time for a nap,” Soo-Won said ruefully.

“Make time.” Lili shrugged. “Decree it if you have to. Official Royal Nap Time.”

“The way you think the monarchy works is fascinating given the fact that you were raised by a politician.”

Soo-Won squeezed her hand one more time before slipping away, freeing her to stand and round the desk to the window behind him.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“That freak probably has his ear pressed to the door outside. There’s no way I’m getting out of here the normal way without being accosted about top five positions to guarantee impregnation.”

He silently unlatched the window for her and pushed it open.

She had one leg over the window ledge before she felt a hand at her back and another at her elbow, ready to hold her steady as she shimmied out.

“Good thing your office is so low to the ground,” Lili said.

“I picked it for just this sort of occasion,” Soo-Won said.

“Wait, really?”

She shifted her weight to the foot on the grass outside and let Soo-Won hold her hand to balance while she threaded her other leg through to freedom.

“No,” he said.

“Is there a reason you picked this room?”

Soo-Won hummed. “A story for another day.”

She shivered in the cold mid-morning, immediately regretting leaving the warm comforts of Soo-Won’s office. She felt ridiculous and weak, but the palace was more north than she was used to; the winters were especially brutal for someone used to a more temperate clime.

“Get back inside soon. I’ll cover for you,” Soo-Won said.

“How so?” Lili asked.

“Kye-Sook,” Soo-Won called, eyes never leaving Lili’s. 

She caught the faintest hint of amusement from him when she startled, ducking out of view of the window as his office door swung open far too quickly for someone who wasn’t standing right next to it.

Gross.

It probably meant something that not even Kye-Sook and his inappropriate investment in her and Soo-Won’s nonexistent sex life could scare her off from marrying Soo-Won. Because she hated Kye-Sook. She hated Soo-Won’s position. She hated that she liked Soo-Won’s pretty face and nice hands that were bigger than hers.

Don’t connect those dots just yet, she begged her brain. She wanted to continue to live in avoidance for just a little bit longer. Because the second she stopped running, she knew she’d have to face the fact that she had somehow, at some point, maybe fallen in love with her fiancé. 

Shit.

#look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t think kyesook would be inappropriately invested in future heirs to the throne #yona of the dawn #akatsuki no yona #lili x soo won #lili/soo won #liliwon #(jen if you see this i’m going with your preference for ship name. we’re committing) #soo won: your company is my favorite part of the day. i am very busy but will make time for you. stay forever. #lili: i'm doomed to a loveless marriage full of angst and pining. my life is a greek tragedy #so uhhhhh yeah i had originally written this idea as a joke in a pwp #might tack on a happy smutty second chapter to this because i want to practice writing smut #i just have to get over myself first you know? #my fic

[sailorstarr-chan4]

Y'all, I swear to gods, if a fucking FROZEN SMUT FIC is what will get me back into writing InuKag smut, I'm gonna riot

#listen. LISTEN. #I ship InuKag I love InuKag and I love all my stupid little fics with all my heart #but like.... I took a break for a reason and this fucking Frozen fic #this fucking modern AU Kristanna shamelessly smutty fic #turned a fucking switch in my brain and is now living rent-free in my head #the question 'okay this is fucking hot af but IMAGINE IT WITH INUKAG' has been haunting me for days #I will say: if this does break my writer's block then yay good riddance let's go full-hog #but don't expect me to be anything other than salty and grumpy as I hurl smut at you thirsty bitches #(I kid I kid but like. seriously. FUCKING DISNEY SMUT IS INSPIRING ME TO WRITE INUKAG Y'ALL HCGVHKJHCGVBCHGV) #Starling ramblings #Inuyasha #InuKag #InuxKag #OTP #writer issues #20 notes

[arien-rey]

can i request for a miguel with an s/o who's having major baby fever for a daughter? you can make it smutty or fluffy!!

cw: breeding kink, light light choking, size kink

an: im sorry i literally went INSANE over this bc i know my man has a big big breeding kink!!! i made it realllly smut-heavy, hope thats ok with you! <3

wc: 1.2k

“Daddy! Mommy!” Gabriella exclaimed, her face lighting with pure joy. She quickly sprints to Miguel, backpack swinging wildly. Without a moment’s hesitation, Miguel drops to his knee next to you and eagerly awaits his daughter’s embrace.

With arms outstretched, Miguel effortlessly catches Gabriella in mid-air and holds her tightly against his chest. A warm smile spreads across your face at the heartwarming scene, your husband’s large hands enfolded around your daughter.

As Gabriella buries her face into Miguel’s strong shoulder and he grins. “missed you, mija. How was your day at school?”

Gabriella pulls away and turns to hold your hand before shyly, begins to rattle on about her day; all the new friends she made, her soccer games at recess, and a particularly impressive drawing she made with water color. “Thats amazing, honey,” you exclaim, and Miguel nods in agreement.

As you walk back to the car, you feel a strong surge of love in your chest as you watch the way Miguel interacts with Gabi so affectionately. The way he listens attentively to every word she says, and how she runs into his arms with a goofy grin spread on her lips. It was attractive to say the least, and it got you thinking…

══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══

“Miggy, I want another one.”

Miguel raised an eyebrow, a mixture of surprise and curiosity dancing across his face. He sets down his book to turn his attention to you fully. It was late at night, and the two of you were cuddling together on the couch after Gabriella was put to sleep.

“another baby, huh?”

“yeah, a cute baby girl. Just.. the way you handle Gabi is so…” Your voice trails off, unable to find the right words. he wraps his strong arm around you, smiling with playful satisfaction at your response and you, blushing shyly, bury your face into his chest.

“Please, Miggy,”

You whisper, and suddenly you feel his rough touch under your chin, gently tilting your head up to meet your eyes with his hazel ones, dim with a new desire.

“of course, nena. you want me to give you another baby girl? huh?”

you nod softly, shivering when you feel his other hand snake up your thigh, stopping on your inner thigh and gently messaging the flesh with his thumb.

“let me help you then,” he murmurs softly, drawing close to you, his lips meeting yours in a tender touch. With a gentle glide, his calloused hand caresses your chin, cradling your cheek, as he pulls you closer. As your lips meet his, you reciprocate without any hesitation, indulging in an affectionate, delicate kiss.

this tenderness didn’t last long though, the gentleness quickly transforming feverish and greedy, moans vibrating from both your chests and your bodies suddenly burning. When you both pull away, you feel his fingers slip under the straps of your tanktop and slide them off your shoulders. “Get this off,” he demands breathlessly, and you comply , stripping for him hastily.

you breathe, splayed out in front of your lover, face flushed as miguel sits up in between your legs with his intense gaze burning your skin as they trace your figure.

“you’re beautiful,” he breathes, and you whimper at his words, clit throbbing at the thought of being bred full and bearing another daughter to the man you love.

Miguel is quick to follow suit, pulling his tight shirt over his head to reveal the tan skin and solid muscle underneath. You bite your lip, eyes lidded as you watch him finish stripping. Miguel hastily takes off his sweatpants and boxers and lets his hard, leaking cock spring free from its confines.

He presses his hand against the plush of your inner thigh and spreads your legs, using his other hand to pump his cock with languid strokes.

You mewl feeling him drag the tip of his fat cock in between your folds, mushing it and teasing it against your clit sending pleasure coursing througch your body and making you throw your head back with a whimper.

he leans down and kisses you slowly, biting down on your lip gently. “feels good?” he asks breathlessly, and you nod, moaning at the feeling of his angry red tip against your swollen clit.

feverishly, he runs his length over your slick folds, grunting as you rocked your hips to meet his touch. After a few intense minutes, with desperate teasing and soft moans slipping from your glossy lips, you squeeze your eyes shut, feeling your orgasm building rapidly. suddenly, he pulls away, making you to whimper at the sudden loss of friction. But before you can protest, he silences you with a brief kiss.

“‘M gonna put it in, okay?” he murmurs hotly, lining up the tip of his cock against your hole before gently pressing the aching tip inside.

Your mouth hangs into an ‘o’ shape, eyes pinched shut as he slowly sinks his cock into your core. You squirm and whimper as you tread the line between pain and pleasure, walls fluttering as his hips press against the back of your thighs. the feeling of being filled fully by miguel sends you into a daze everytime, and he’s so deep inside you can almost feel him in your throat

“g-god, you’re so big,” you whimper, face flushed as your body adjusts to his huge size. Miguel sucks in air between his gritted teeth sharply as your tight walls clamp down on him, engulfing him in your warmth and sucking him in. While he gives you a second to adjust, he slides his hands under the backs of your thighs and pushes your knees to your chest for a less extreme breeding press.

“gonna fuck my cum into you hermosa and knock you up with another baby,” He growls breathlessly, “You’d like that, yeah?” You eagerly nod your head in agreement, tummy flipping with butterflies at his dirty talk before he teasingly pulls out his length almost completely, only to thrust it entirely back in with a force that makes an unintentional moan escape you lips, and your eyes roll back.

His thrusts eventually build a strong rhythm, his hips slamming into you so heavy and mean, hitting the spots inside you that made you see stars. The only sound echoing in the small room was your loud moans mixed with his breathy grunts, along with the loud squelching sound of your slick as his cock drags in and out of your sloppy cunt. “god baby, you’re fucking me so, so good,” you moan, voice shaky, and he slides his hand up your body to rest a hand around your throat. “Yeah? you like it when im rough with you?” he chuckles dryly.

You suck in a sharp breath as he releases your throat and pulls your knees even closer to your chest in a full mating press, letting them rest over his shoulders as if he’s trying to get his cock inside you impossibly deeper. you cry out and desperately claw at the couch, feeling helpless as the new position sends electrifying shocks coursing through your body. pleasure cascades over you and overwhelms your senses, causing your legs to tremble uncontrollably.

Miguel loved seeing you like this, mind gone and pussy stretching to take cock that was too big for you to handle. God, you looked irresistible, fucked dumb under his touch.

“‘M gonna cum Mig, please, please, cum inside me, please!” you beg, tears beginning to well in your eyes. miguel notices and groans at the sight, his thrusts beginning to quicken even more. “shh, baby, you don’t wanna wake up Gabi, do you?” he coos breathlessly, causing a flutter in your chest, and you suppress a gasp. Moving closer, he gently places his forehead against yours, igniting an intense warmth that engulfs both of you. “dont worry nena, I’m gonna fuck my cum right into your pretty little pussy and give you that daughter you wanted m’kay? don’t cry,” he whispers, and it only takes a few more hard thrusts before the coil in your stomach finally snaps.

your eyes squeeze shut and you let out open-mouthed silent moans, your voice lost to the amount of pleasure you’re in as you gush around him. Miguel follows suit soon after, his heavy groans and growls filling the room as he presses his pelvis against your ass and breeds your cunt full of his hot, sticky cum.

Miguel doesn’t bother to pull out yet, the room falling into an abrupt silence, with only the sound of heavy, labored breathing breaking the stillness.

“Hope you’re ready, because I’m not done with you yet.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara smut #miguel x reader #smut #miguel ohara #miguel smut #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x oc #miguel x y/n #miguel o hara #<3 #miguel o hara x reader #2099<3

[lovebugism]

hi bug!! for your shy!reader requests, idk if you’re going smutty w them but if you ARE: I love the concept of reader being generally pretty quiet, which extends to r’s sex life bc they’ve never thought to b otherwise… enter Hawkins’ own loudmouth DM who takes it upon himself to coax every noise out of reader that he can 💖🫡

ty for requesting! here's my first attempt at smut on here since 2023 :D — eddie teaches his quiet gf how to be louder in the bedroom (shy!fem!r, smut 18+)

Eddie’s face appears from beneath the covers — pale cheeks flushed, chestnut hair wild. He’s still got his ringed fingers wrapped ‘round your thighs, clutching you with the same intensity he’d had when his face was shoved between them. 

He blinks at you with chocolate eyes and drags his tongue across his lip. His pink mouth is softly swollen with use and glittering with your honey. “Is this okay?” he slurs between labored pants.

You lift your swimmy head from the pillow and peer at him through the valley of your breasts, rising and falling with each deep breath. You nod until the words catch up to you. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s— it’s good,” you answer breathlessly, though you don’t think that describes the half of it.

There aren’t enough words in the English language you could string together to describe how he makes you feel. How good he is with his tongue. How you’re throbbing clit still pounds like a heartbeat for more of him.

“Okay. Good,” he huffs with a lazy nod. 

His fingers fidget around your thighs when he shifts on the mattress, wincing slightly when his sensitive cock ruts against it. “I just… I wanted to make sure, you know? ‘Cause you weren’t… You weren’t really… Saying anything.”

He forces out a chuckle to keep the honeyed mood light while horror floods your features. Your eyes soften around the edges with worry. “What was I… What was I supposed to say?” you squeak.

“Nothing!” he answers quickly, eyes going wide when he senses your panic. “It’s just… Most— Most people moan when they feel good and stuff…” His lip quirks in a lopsided smile before a laugh sputters from them. “I mean, you’ve heard me. I’m fucking loud.”

He is. He’s more than loud, actually — full of gruff moans, pretty whimpers, and neverending praise. He never leaves you with an ounce of worry when you’re with him ‘cause he’s constantly rambling about how good you feel.

“Fuck, baby, that’s good— Oh, shit,” he babbled while he fucked your mouth, some minutes ago now. He whimpered after, high-pitched and faraway.“Gonna make me cum— so fucking hard— in your pretty little throat. Fuck, angel. Fuck—”

You writhe on the mattress, feeling suddenly uncomfortable in your own skin. 

You become acutely hyperaware of how bare you are below him, with his face mere inches from your glistening pussy and his chocolate eyes swimming with warmth. You feel more naked than you already are. Totally fucking see-through.

“Sorry,” you murmur sheepishly. “I just… I guess, I’m just quiet. I don’t know.”

Eddie smiles like he isn’t wearing your slick all over his chin. “That’s okay,” he assures with an innocuous twinkle in his eye. “But you don’t have to be. You know that, right?”

You blink at him until you realize the question isn’t rhetorical. 

His smile falls into a mischievous smirk when you nod. 

“Be as loud as you want for me, yeah? Make all the noise you want…”

—————

He’s a menace.

Eddie Munson is a total fucking menace.

He doesn’t eat your pussy like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. No, he takes his good and well time with you — like he plans on doing this, and only this, for the rest of his life. 

Your inner thighs are slick with saliva. His spit drips down your ass, along with your honey, as his tongue laps mercilessly at your cunt. Slowly, gently, agonizingly. It’s like he can’t help but be so sloppy. Like he can’t help but drool all over your pussy ‘cause he loves it so damn much.

“Eddie, please,” you whine through heavy pants, clammy hands cradling your knees to keep them spread for him. “I wanna cum, Eddie. Please, I wanna cum.”

If he’s doing all this to get you talking, well, it’s fucking working.

His mouth smacks when it parts from your sensitive clit. The delicate button is as swollen as his lips are now. His pretty face is utterly blissed out — mouth rosy, eyes lidded, cheeks flushed. Like he’s found heaven in your pussy.

“Shit,” he huffs with a crooked smile, still a bit breathless. “You taste too good… Got me all distracted… Wasn’t tryin’ to tease you, babe, I swear.”

He pulls back the sticky hood of your cunt with a ringed hand. You keen when his thumb rolls over your throbbing clit. “Fuck, Eds,” you gasp — back arched, head thrown back.

“Need it that bad, huh?” He chuckles quietly when your hips buck into his hand, desperate for more. 

“Please, Eds,” you beg with your eyes squeezed shut. Tears burn in the very corners of them, stinging like you might cry at how good he’s making you feel. At how badly you want him to make you cum.

Spit dribbles from his pursed mouth onto your already slick pussy. He rubs it in with guitar string-calloused fingers, and your toes curl into the sheets. “Wanna cum?” he slurs, blinking slowly at your trembling form with pretty button eyes. “Wanna cream on my tongue?”

You whine at the vulgarity of his words — and at the lightning strike that rushes down your spine when his merciless fingers graze your pulsing clit. Swallowing down a sob, you nod rapidly against the pillow.

Eddie kisses your pussy like he would your mouth. Your honey clings to him when he pulls away, smirking up at you with glittering lips. “Then keep talking for me, yeah?”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble

[hannieehaee]

SERENDIPITY (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: jungkook, god of love and son of venus is given the task by his mother herself to rid the world of you, known as psyche, as your beauty begins to rival her own. unfortunately for all parties involved, jungkook becomes enamored by you upon accidentally pinching himself with his own arrow.

content: cupid!jungkook, psyche!reader, an extremely simplified and smutty version of the og story, afab reader, side character deaths, mentions of attempted suicide, the dialogue is not super fitting of the times, angst(?), fluff, smut, they have sex where she doesnt know who he is multiple times but its consensual, penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 841 (teaser); 8.6k (full fic)

release date: may 3rd

or you can check it out on my ko-fi or patreon today by subscribing to either one!

a/n: i decided to do my first jungkook full fic in celebration for hitting 4k followers!! i hope u guys enjoy<3

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

"Why did you call for me, again?"

"Jungkook, pay attention!", hissed his mother, holding her fingers to her temples in stress as one of her many servants walked in with the fruit she'd requested, "I need you to use your arrows on someone."

"What? Why? I thought you didn't like me meddling with people's love lives."

"This is different. This one needs a little help," Venus frowned in sheer annoyance, "She is known as Psyche by many, Y/N by her loved ones. She has become quite a figure among the Roman population. Some have begun to worship her beauty. They pray to her, they bring her offerings, they kiss at her feet, completely disregarding the true Goddess of Beauty."

"And where does this concern me?", Jungkook was beyond bored by his mother's ramblings. On a usual day, he would be out and entertaining himself with the many mortal maidens found around Rome, always guaranteeing himself a partner for the day.

Venus shot Cupid a look as her servants fed her by mouth, making him straighten his back and begin paying better attention. Even as the Goddess of Beauty, Venus was known as one of the most menacing Goddesses to exist, holding far too much power among all Gods and Goddesses. Jungkook couldn't help but feel intimidated by her, even as carefree as he was known to be.

"She has far too many admirers. Even Gods are beginning to show interest in her, yet she is lacking in suitors thus far. I need you to shoot your arrow and tie her off to the most hideous creature you can muster. She may seize from being a disturbance this way."

"Okay, so you want me to doom her to an eternity with a monster?", Jungkook tilted his head in curiosity.

Despite being considered the most beautiful entity, Jungkook knew Venus to be one of the least amicable creatures in all of the land. Mortals were blissfully unaware of her cruelty, thinking her to be the most perfect among all Goddesses. However, Cupid, as her son, knew of the misery that awaited anyone who crossed the Goddess of Beauty.

Venus halted her movements in frustration, scaring the servants nearby before turning to Jungkook in annoyance, "Cupid, my son, you will obey my order without question. I gave you those wings, I gave you that bow., and I gave you that arrow. I don't care how cruel you may think me to be, this is an order. You shall not utilize your powers for your own endeavors until you finish your task," she demanded, "Now, go rid me of that wench before I find someone else to do the job."

With a sigh, Jungkook nodded in defeat, fully aware of the type of punishments his mother could deliver should he disobey her orders. Walking over to the window through which he had originally entered, he pulled his bow and arrow from his back, beginning to fly off with his wings as he embarked on a journey to seek out the mighty Psyche that had his mother so worried.

"Y/N, there's another letter from one of your admirers," announced Psyche's mother, placing the letter on the huge pile of gifts provided by the many civilians who came visit their castle with the hope of getting a glimpse of the beautiful girl.

"Mother, what shall I do with all these? There's so many letters yet not a single suitor," you sighed, frustrated at the lack of prospects you'd had so far, "My sisters have both married, yet I am left alone with no one to seek my heart."

"Child, you should be grateful," said your mother, "You are admired through all the land, vied for as if you were a true Goddess. Someone will come for you one day, rest assured," affirmed your mother, petting your hair as she landed a soft kiss on your forehead and took her leave once more.

It was easy for your parents to grow used to the love and admiration you received. Endless people would come and dedicate themselves to their servitude if it meant as much as receiving your blessing – which was absolutely worthless as a mere princess in a land filled with mystical deities.

Your elder sisters had both been married off months back, finding old yet respectable husbands to take them away and care for them as any and all husbands should. You, however, remained alone with your parents, always hoping that a man would be brave enough to court you.

It was unfortunate, really; the way in which your beauty prevented you from receiving any suitors. You had not chosen to be blessed by Venus herself, nor did you ever hope to become her contender in the title of the most beautiful entity in all of creation. Unlike you, she had found a God to sweep her off her feet, gifting her with the fruit of love himself – her son Cupid. Oh, how you wished he'd shoot his arrow and allow you some rest from this endless search for a husband.

...

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#bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #bts scenario #jungkook scenario #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine

[punkshort]

i'll be home for christmas | part one

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.

Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, reader has a childhood nickname only her family uses, Hallmark tropes up the wazoo, soft!joel, reader's sister is pregnant, talks of infidelity, talks of divorce, alcohol use, kissing, (smut in part two)

WC: 9.1K

A/N: this is my take on a cheesy, fluffy, soft, smutty, Joel Miller Hallmark Christmas movie. It's just sweet and silly and makes me smile, and I hope it does the same for you. I also wrote this in less than 2 days and didn't really edit it much, so sorry in advance if there's any errors.

Found the pic on Twitter but can't remember the source, if you know please send me a message and i will credit them

Series Masterlist

It was the second week of December as you stood inside the airport in Austin, Texas, waiting for your luggage to emerge on the conveyor belt. You thought by coming home early, you would have avoided the holiday traffic, but you were wrong. All around you, people squealed with excitement and embraced, dragging their worn out luggage behind them as they made their way out of the bustling airport. You tried to keep the scowl from your face as you watched, but it was next to impossible, so you wrapped your Burberry scarf around your neck instead, hoping to hide your displeasure.

This was not the plan you had for Christmas. You should be in New York in a high-rise apartment in front of a roaring fireplace with a glass of wine and your fiancé - ex-fiancé - not back in Austin with your parents, who begged you to come visit for the holidays after you told them the news.

Coming home to visit wasn't your favorite thing, but you felt guilty having avoided the holidays with your family for so many years, and you would have ended up all alone in the city anyway. So you caved, using up all the PTO you saved for the wedding, and took the rest of the year off from work.

Your designer luggage stood out like a sore thumb when it tumbled down the conveyor belt. You winced after watching the impact and snatched it up quickly. Glancing around, you saw a beacon in the storm: a familiar green, glowing sign in the distance - Starbucks. The line was long, but your flight was early, so you waited and got a latte, hoping it would lift your spirits a bit before you had to face your parents.

You tapped the side of your coffee cup anxiously as you rode the escalator down to the first floor, scanning the crowd for your mom and dad. There were a few people holding up signs with names on them, and when you saw the sign that said "Bucket" on it, you cringed.

Your dad's tall, round frame came into view when the people in front of him dispersed. He looked almost exactly the same, except a little greyer. Still sporting a shockingly full head of hair and his signature thick mustache, he grinned and pulled you into a warm hug.

"Really, Dad? 'Bucket'?"

"Well, that's what we call you, ain't it?" he said with a smile. You rolled your eyes and tried to be annoyed, but you had to admit that you were happy to see him.

"Where's Mom?" you asked.

"She's waitin' in the car, didn't wanna pay for parking so we're in a pick up zone, let's hustle," he said, wrapping his arm around you as he led you outside. "How was the flight?"

"Long," you said, then gasped when the cold air hit you. "Wow, I didn't think it would be this cold yet."

"It's been a cold one so far this year," he nodded, directing you to the left where you could see your mom smiling and waving from the passenger seat of their white SUV. You waved back and grinned. Maybe coming home wasn't such a bad idea, after all.

"Hiya, Bucky!" your mom said happily, leaning out of the window to give you a half hug while your dad loaded up your belongings in the back.

"Hey, Mom," you replied. "I like your sweater."

She was wearing one of her tacky Christmas sweaters that she wore every year - unironically. It amazed you how some things never change.

You climbed into the back seat as your dad carefully exited the parking spot and joined the line of cars that were slowly inching towards the main road.

"We're so glad you decided to come home this year, you can finally see the new house!" your mom said excitedly. They had built a brand new house, and the way she provided updates and pictures to you over the phone for the past year, you felt like you had already seen it.

"Yeah, can't wait," you said, staring out the window.

"Hope you don't mind, but we're throwin' a party tomorrow night," your dad said, glancing at you in the review mirror. "Wanted to have our friends over to see the place and have an early holiday party. They'll be so happy to see you, it's been so long since you've been home, Buck."

You had been hoping to spend most of the next three weeks in bed moping and scrolling on your phone. The thought of a party and seeing all those people looking at you with pity made your stomach turn. Your mom must have sensed your discomfort.

"It's alright, honey. They won't say anything," she said softly, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

"Okay," you replied, your voice pained as you opened your eyes to stare at the passing traffic on the thruway.

You'll make an appearance for an hour, and then try to sneak back upstairs until the party ends, already fabricating a headache to blame it on.

The house your parents built was impressive, even you had to admit. It was a two story colonial with four bedrooms and three bathrooms. The open floor plan was stunning as you made your way from room to room. The first floor alone had a spacious living room with vaulted ceilings, a kitchen with an attached dining room, and a separate family room off the back. There was even a small office by the front door that you missed the first time around, and a pantry as big as your closet back home.

You cringed at the thought, reminding yourself that it was no longer your home. That was part of the problem. You had moved in with Will, and when you discovered he had been cheating on you, you crashed at your friend Melanie's place. When you tearfully told your parents the news a few days later, they asked you to come home. Just for the holidays, your mom had said. Just to give you time to figure out your next move.

"This is beautiful, Mom," you said honestly, admiring the fine details on the cabinets.

"Thank you, sweetie. Took a long time, but Joel built it just right for us," she said, beaming.

"Oh, the contractor, right?" you replied, distracted now by the backsplash above the counters.

"He's such a sweet man, he was so patient with us when we changed our minds a million times over every little thing."

"Well, tell him he did a great job," you murmured, opening and shutting different drawers.

"You can tell him yourself, he'll be at the party tomorrow," your dad said, opening the fridge to scrounge for some snacks.

"You invited your contractor to your holiday party?" you asked in disbelief.

"Sure we did. We either saw him or spoke to him almost every single day for a year. He's a good man."

"Okay," you said slowly, still finding it a bit strange, but reminding yourself that things worked a little differently in the south.

"Bucket!" you heard your sister call from the front of the house. A smile plastered across your face instantly as you rushed to the door, both of you squealing as you wrapped your arms around each other and jumped in a circle, unable to contain your excitement.

"Cassie!" you said, pulling back to look at her, brushing her sleek, dark brown hair over her shoulder. "You look fantastic!"

"Ugh, I feel like shit," she said, and you laughed, glancing down at her barely swollen belly.

"How far along are you again?" you asked.

"Twenty weeks, but I'm ready for this to be over! I'm so tired all the time, it sucks," she said, flopping down on the couch in the living room after she gave your parents quick hugs.

"Where's Josh?" your mom asked, referring to your brother in law.

"He's still working, he'll be by later," Cassie said, waving her hand. "Gives us a chance to catch up," she added with a wink.

"You girls do that, we need to go to the store for tomorrow night. Do you need anything?" your mom asked, and you shook your head, eager for them to leave so you could be alone with your sister.

"Tell me everything," Cassie said the moment the door clicked shut.

If it were anyone else, you wouldn't have been in the mood to talk about the mess that was currently your life, but you've always been able to talk about anything with your sister. You trusted each other implicitly and there was no judgement, no matter if you had cheated on a test or gotten drunk during prom, you told each other everything.

So you did. You told her how for months, you felt like something was off with Will. How he would stay out late and say it was for work, but none of his work friends ever posted about going anywhere those nights on social media. He grew more distant and you tried to ignore your paranoia, but when he collapsed into bed one night, too out of it to wash up, and you saw the lipstick on his neck the next morning, you lost it. He hardly even tried to explain himself, barely even attempted to lie, and you began to think maybe he wanted to get caught. Maybe he wanted you to do the dirty work and end things so he didn't have to. Fucking coward.

"What a piece of shit. I never liked him," Cassie said when you were finished. "He acted like he was so much better than everyone when he was here, do you remember the comments he made about the wine mom had? It was so fucking rude."

"Yeah, I know," you agreed.

"So why were you even with him?"

"We had been together since college, Cas," you said, exasperated. "I knew him before he was like that. He used to be sweet and fun. Then he got that finance job and met all those assholes and he became just like them."

"Well, I'm just glad you didn't end up married before finding out what he's really like," she said, shifting her weight on the couch with her hand cupping her small stomach. "That would have been a huge mess."

"It's still a huge mess, I have no where to live now, and I can only couch surf for so long," you said, burying your face in your hands.

"You'll figure it out, Buck. I'll help you look for places online while you're here. Maybe set up some appointments so you can tour them when you get back."

"Thanks," you said, giving her a weak smile. "That would actually be great."

"Now, on to more important things," your sister said, slapping her palms against her knees to stand.

"Baby names?" you asked.

"No! Let's figure out what you'll wear to the party tomorrow," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "I wanna look through all your fancy designer clothes."

You giggled and stood to join her.

"Fine, but I'm still dropping baby names while you look," you replied.

After spending a majority of the next day helping your parents decorate and prepare food for the party, you finally were able to excuse yourself to shower and get ready. Cassie had picked out a Ralph Lauren lace cocktail dress that Will had bought for your birthday last year. You slipped it on, running your hands over the fabric as you adjusted the dress in the mirror. Just because he bought it didn't mean you couldn't wear it again. You snatched the glass of wine from your dresser and took a sip, trying to push the thought of him from your head as you made your way downstairs.

Cassie and Josh were already in the kitchen, munching on appetizers and chatting with your parents. Cassie let out a low whistle when you entered the room. You waved her off and gave Josh a big hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Good to see you," you told him with a smile. "All ready for the baby?"

"Getting there," Josh replied, wrapping an arm around Cassie's waist. You tried to ignore the ugly, jealous pit in your stomach as he told you how the nursery was coming along. You wasted so many years of your life on Will. Your sister was already married and starting a family, and here you were, basically homeless and starting over. Pathetic.

Family friends slowly began to trickle into the house, luckily being whisked away by your parents to give them a tour after you meekly greeted them and hid back in the kitchen. As more and more people arrived, you began to wonder how your parents kept so many close friends when you barely had a handful back in New York.

A few kids raced by you in the kitchen as you made your way to the bar to refill your wine. Even though it was loud, you could still hear your dad's booming voice as he regaled a friend with a fishing story. You wandered around a bit, trying to find Cassie and Josh so you didn't look out of place, but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw them chatting with Mr. Tanner and his son, Troy, backing away before they could see you. Troy used to have the biggest crush on you when you were kids. If he found out you were single, you wouldn't be able to shake him all night.

You eventually found yourself alone, back in front of the snacks. You picked at the chips on your plate, not really interested in eating but hoping to avoid any awkward conversations, so you kept your eyes down, scrolling mindlessly on your phone. Apparently, it wasn't good enough because you felt someone sidle up next to you.

"Those any good?" a deep, unfamiliar drawl spoke from your side. You looked up to find the softest pair of brown eyes you've ever seen on a man. Blinking, you took a moment as your gaze raked over his patchy beard and the dark, tousled curls on his head. They looked so soft, you had to resist the urge to reach out and touch them. What was wrong with you?

"Huh?" you managed to squeak out after you realized you had waited too long to reply. Idiot.

"The, uh, chips," he said, pointing at your plate before rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh!" you said, looking at your plate, completely forgetting you even had it. "Yeah, they're alright."

He nodded and glanced around the room, unsure of what to say next. He cleared his throat and tried again.

"How do you know Paul and Martha?"

Distracted, you watched as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, stretching the fabric of his red flannel over his shoulders, pulling the material taught. You had to remind yourself to pay attention and stop gawking at this man like he was a piece of meat. Jesus, maybe you should stop drinking.

"They're my parents," you said after a moment, your eyes flicking across the room, finding them with a group of their friends with your dad's arm wrapped around your mom's shoulder as she giggled and gazed up at him adoringly.

"Oh, you're Cassie," the man said, his eyes dropping from your face to your stomach, and you swore you saw a glimmer of disappointment.

"No!" you said quickly, your hand subconsciously resting on your midsection. "That's my sister, I'm their other daughter." You told him your name and briefly explained you lived in New York and were just visiting for the holidays.

"They must be real happy, havin' you home for so long," he replied, and you shrugged.

"Yeah, it's been a while since I've come home for a visit. I was feeling pretty bad about that," you said, choosing to leave out the biggest reason you were there. This stranger didn't need to be burdened with your love life drama. "Besides, they were so excited to show off the new house," you continued, waving your arm around the room.

"Took us long enough, but it finally came together," he replied with a smile.

"Oh! You must be Joel," you said, realization finally dawning on you.

"Yeah, sorry," he said, shaking his head and stretching out his arm. "That was rude of me, don't know what I was thinkin'." His cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you shook his hand.

"My parents always have such wonderful things to say about you. The house is beautiful, I was blown away when I first saw it," you told him. "I especially love the little details on the cabinets."

"Thanks," he said with a soft smile, averting his gaze to look at the cabinet behind you. "I actually did that myself. It's kind of a hobby of mine. Closest to art I'll ever get, I guess."

"I don't think it's just 'close' to art, I think it is art. It's stunning," you told him, running your fingertips over the intricate floral design. "You're very talented."

"Well, thank you," he said sheepishly, rubbing his beard to hide his smile. You could see the blush creeping up his neck and you bit your lip with a grin, turning your head to try to give him a moment. Were you making him nervous? He was painfully good looking, could this guy actually be into you? Were you even interested? The break up was still so fresh and it had been so long since you've dated anyone besides Will, you hadn't even considered it yet.

"So, how long have you worked in construction?" you asked after a minute, discarding your plate on the counter to give him your full attention.

"Oh, my whole life. Me and my brother started the business when we were in our twenties. Only thing we were any good at, and luckily it pays the bills," he told you with a shrug, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "What do you-"

Joel's question was cut off by a young girl with curly brown hair in a red velvet dress bouncing up to him.

"Dad! Can Uncle Tommy take me outside so we can look at the pool?" she asked. Dad? You looked down when he pulled his hands out of his pockets, palming one of the girl's shoulders to quiet her down, and noticed the gold wedding band. Of fucking course.

"The pool? Sarah, it's freezin' out," Joel said, and she grinned.

"I'm not going in, Dad, I just wanna see," she said, rolling her eyes. She glanced over, noticing you for the first time, and smiled. "I really like your dress," she said.

"Thank you," you said, running your hand down the fabric. "I like yours, too."

"Uh, yeah, that's fine. Just make sure Uncle Tommy sticks with you, alright?" Joel relented, and she clapped her hands gleefully before running off again.

"She's cute, how old is she?" you asked him, looking around the room to see if Sarah had run back to a woman who could be Joel's wife.

"She's sixteen," he said, eyeing you carefully. He hadn't thought this far ahead and hoped he wasn't scaring you off.

You turned to him, startled, having guessed she was younger.

"You must have had her young," you said, the words slipping out before you could catch them. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that like it sounded-"

"No, it's alright," he said with a chuckle. "I did. I'm forty."

You nodded and took a sip from your glass, letting your eyes drift away, rethinking your conversation. Maybe you misread him and he was just being friendly. There was no way he would be flirting with you at a party with his kid right there. But then he cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him.

"Listen, I hope I'm not bein' too forward, but are you here with anyone?"

You raised your eyebrows at him over your glass. There was no misreading that. Blinking rapidly, you tried to formulate a reply that wouldn't cause a scene. Was he seriously hitting on you with a ring on his finger? You put your glass down on the counter and opened your mouth to reply when your sister's voice interrupted you.

"Bucket! Come here, you remember Troy, right?"

You cringed, at both the nickname and the person in question, before slowly turning your body towards her and forcing a fake smile.

"Of course. How are you?" you said with a hug.

"Doing great, just got a new job with a law firm downtown," Troy said, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans and shifting his weight nervously. He began to ramble about his new job as your sister introduced herself to Joel behind you. You resisted the urge to strangle her, reminding yourself she was carrying your baby niece or nephew and that you'll have to wait until after she gave birth to kill her. She knew you couldn't stand Troy, but she probably couldn't get rid of him, either.

You stood there, draining your wine glass while he prattled on for the next twenty minutes. By the time Troy's dad walked over and ushered him away, Joel was nowhere to be found.

Probably for the best, anyway. You were getting really sick and tired of only attracting unfaithful men.

You hadn't considered how annoying it would be to have your parents hovering around you all the time, worried that you were slipping into a depression and trying to get you to join them on activities outside the house. After you felt forced to go sledding with them the day before, you decided to make yourself scarce today, which is why you found yourself at the mall in downtown Austin browsing for a Christmas gift for your future niece or nephew.

As you were looking through a storefront window, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Taking it out, you saw a text from a friend back home.

Sydney: You'll never guess who i just bumped into

You were typing out your response, chin tucked into your chest, when you felt someone knock into you. Startled, you looked up only to lock eyes with Joel the contractor.

"Oh!" you managed to stammer out. His deep brown eyes lit up and a warm smile spread across his face when he looked up and recognized you.

"Sorry, wasn't payin' attention," he said. "How, uh, how are you?"

"Good," you said, nodding and clutching your phone in your hand. "You?"

"Good. Was actually just thinkin' about you," he admitted, looking down and shifting the bag he was carrying from one hand to the other. "Never got to say goodbye to you the other night."

"Yeah, it was pretty crowded. I didn't realize my parents were so popular," you joked. "Is Sarah with you?"

"No, she's in school," he replied, and you bumped the heel of your hand against your forehead, rolling your eyes. Of course she was, it's the middle of the day.

"Duh," you said quietly, finding it hard to hold his gaze without getting butterflies, so you looked away.

"So, uh, I hope this doesn't sound creepy, but I asked your sister if you were seein' anyone the other night," he began, and you felt your face instantly heat up. Why didn't Cassie warn you?? "-was wonderin' if I could get your number."

"Huh?" you asked, your eyes widening as you tried to control your breathing. You glanced down at his hand again when he looked away and saw he was definitely wearing a ring.

"Thought we could go out sometime? If you're interested?" he asked, his own nerves wreaking havoc as he shifted his weight and chewed on the inside of his cheek, praying his face wasn't as red as it felt.

"Are you serious?" you asked him, narrowing your eyes. The audacity of some men!

"'Course I'm serious," he said with a nervous smile. "Thought we hit it off the other night-"

"Joel, listen. I'm not going to say what I'm really thinking for the sake of my parents and everything you did for them, but I am not interested in dating married men," you said with a scowl. He frowned, giving you a confused look before you turned on your heel and stormed away, joining the crowd of Christmas shoppers bustling by.

He looked down at his hand, making a tight fist before swiveling his head around, trying to locate you in the crowd before he lost you.

"Hey, wait!" he called out, pushing past clusters of people as he jogged to try and keep up with you. He called out your name as he got closer. You stopped suddenly but didn't turn around, causing surprised shoppers to have to redirect at the last minute to avoid running into you.

"Hey, I'm sorry-"

"You should apologize to your wife!" you said loudly, causing a few people to turn their heads in your direction as they walked past. Joel looked around nervously.

"I'm not married," he clarified quietly. You looked down at his hand again and he flexed his fingers.

"Can we get a coffee or somethin'? And I'll explain," he begged, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each second that passed as you considered your answer. "Please."

"Fine," you agreed, and his face relaxed once again.

You sat down at a coffee shop within Barnes and Noble as Joel ordered you both something to drink. As you watched him at the counter, you admired his long legs and broad shoulders underneath his brown coat and wondered what possible excuse he was going to come up with.

Oh my god, what if she died?

You rubbed your eyes, hoping you didn't just insult a widower in the middle of a crowded mall.

Joel joined you at the table and set your coffee down in front of you with a smile.

"Thank you," you said softly, fiddling with the cup and avoiding his eyes as he shrugged his coat off, revealing a navy blue V-neck sweater underneath. Your eyes drifted to the small patch of bare chest that was exposed and your stomach clenched. Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to meet his gaze, but he was staring down at his ring finger.

"I'm not married anymore, just wanna make that crystal clear," he began, still staring at his ring.

"Okay," you said slowly, waiting for him to continue. He sighed.

"We've been divorced for a few years now," he said, finally looking at you. "It was... hard. Really hard. I, uh," he scratched his beard as he struggled to find the words. "I've had a tough time lettin' go. Thought for a while we might get back together, so I didn't take it off. Then I guess I just got so used to it, I never thought... I'm sorry, I sound like a mess," he said with a sad smile.

"It's alright, I think I understand," you told him, and he looked at you with renewed optimism, encouraged to continue.

"I never took it off because I never thought 'bout askin' anyone out til now," he said. "Didn't realize how that would come across, you just took me by surprise that night and I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you."

You blushed and looked down at your coffee, trying to hide your smile behind your cup, but he saw it and grinned.

"Are you still in love with her?" you asked him. You didn't want to get wrapped up in something that would end up hurting you in the end.

"No," he said firmly. "I mean, I'll always care for her. She gave me Sarah, how could I not? But I'm not in love with her anymore."

You nodded as you absorbed his words, glancing around the little coffee shop before dragging your eyes back to his. He was looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to ask anything else that would make you comfortable with accepting a date from him.

"Well, thank you for being honest with me, but I'm not sure I'm ready for a relationship just yet."

Joel tried to hide the disappointment in his face as he nodded in understanding. The first time in five years he asked someone out and he got shot down.

"It's not you," you clarified. "It's bad timing. I just got out of a really long term relationship. Well, I was actually engaged, and I caught him cheating," you explained with a wince, not expecting to bring this up today. "Probably why I was so sensitive about the wedding ring," you said with a half smirk. He nodded quietly and looked down at the ring on his hand, twisting the metal around with the pad of his thumb as you spoke.

"Sounds like we've both been through a tough time," he murmured, and you quietly agreed.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping your coffees and trying to figure out how to end this awkward interaction without making things worse. You were going to lie about having plans so you could leave when he suddenly spoke up.

"No pressure, but, uh, what if we just went on one very casual date?" He looked at you with those soft, brown eyes and you felt your resolve crumbling. "Sounds like we could both use some practice. You're leavin' at the end of the month anyway. Could just be fun, help get us both back out there."

You paused, not expecting that. He had a good point. It's been so long since you've gone on a date with anyone, and it sounded like he was just as rusty. Besides, what else would you be doing with your time over the next three weeks?

"Okay," you agreed softly. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, parting his lips slightly as he straightened up in his chair.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you said with a grin. "Why not?"

Early the next morning, you heard your phone buzz on the nightstand next to your bed. With a groan, you cracked an eye open to look at the time, then reached for your phone.

"7:30? Who the hell..." you grumbled, squinting at the bright screen, your eyes widening when you saw Joel's name. You sat up in bed, fully awake now, and slid the notification over to open the text.

Joel Miller: Morning. Are you free tonight?

You grinned, flicking on your light so you could see better to respond, then you paused. Should you make him wait before replying? Would you look too desperate if you answered right away?

You shrugged, deciding to answer him. It was casual, you both knew it wouldn't go anywhere, so who cares how it looked?

You: Good morning, you're up early! And yes, what did you have in mind?

You chewed your thumb nail as you waited for his answer.

Joel Miller: This is nothing, I've been up since 5. For some reason, clients expect me to be at job sites early. How about ice skating?

You giggled and tapped out a reply.

You: I'd love to!

Joel Miller: Great - I'll pick you up at 7

Realizing you forgot to reply to Sydney the day before, you switched messages and shot her a quick answer before sliding back down under the covers to scroll on your phone.

You resisted the urge as long as you could - a whole fifteen minutes - before you typed Joel's name into Facebook. His name popped up with two mutual friends and you rolled your eyes. Of course your parents were friends with him. Clicking on his name, you scrolled down his page, tapping through photos of him and Sarah that looked out of date. He didn't seem like the type to update social media often, and his page reflected that hunch. He didn't have many pictures so it didn't take long until you scrolled all the way to the end, presumably his first photo from when he joined. It was a grainy picture of him with a huge smile and his arm slung around a woman with dark, curly hair, just like Sarah's.

She was pretty, you couldn't deny that, and you vaguely wondered why they broke up. He made it sound like he didn't want a divorce, and you figured he would have mentioned cheating since you brought it up.

You closed the app. If Joel wanted to tell you, he would.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you made your way downstairs on the hunt for coffee. Pouring yourself a cup from the machine, you burrowed into the couch, wrapping yourself in a blanket as you waited for your coffee to cool down and flipped through the various streaming services your parents subscribed to.

"Hey Buck, you're up early," your dad said as he descended the stairs and headed to the coffee.

"Hey, Dad," you said, taking a sip from your mug and wincing as you burned your tongue.

"What're you up to today? You wanna come to dinner with your mom and me?"

"Actually, I have a date," you told him, bracing for the reaction.

"Whoa-ho! Been here not even a week and you got yourself a date? Don't tell me... Troy?" he asked with a big grin, sitting down at the other end of the couch.

"Ew, no!" you said, scrunching your nose. "It's, um, Joel," you said quickly, taking another sip from your mug.

"Our contractor?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah, we met at the party," you told him. "Then I ran into him at the mall."

"Ran into who at the mall?" you heard Cassie's voice from down the hall.

"When did you get here?" you asked as she rounded the corner and gazed at your coffee enviously.

"Just now. Who did you see at the mall?"

"Joel," you said, glaring at her. "Got something to tell me about that?"

"Oh, yeah," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "He was asking about you at the party. I made sure to let him know you were single."

"Yeah, he told me, thanks for the heads up, by the way," you said. "We're going out tonight."

"I didn't realize he was single, I just assumed he was married because he's always got Sarah around," your dad said, beginning to zone out to the movie that was on the TV.

"He's single," was all you said, picking your phone back up.

"He's cute," Cassie said, and you blushed. "I'm glad you said yes, mom and dad already love him, so he'll fit right in."

"I don't even live here. It's a casual thing, we're just hanging out," you told her.

"Yeah, okay," she said, giving you a wink. You rolled your eyes and pinched her as you passed by.

"I'm going to shower, then maybe you can help me pick out something to wear," you told her over your shoulder, walking back upstairs.

Joel arrived at your parents' house promptly at 7, just as he promised. He pulled into the driveway, checking his hair in the review mirror quickly before sliding out of his truck and making his way up the porch. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this nervous as he glanced down a the green flannel he wore, praying he didn't miss a button or a stain. He was with his ex for so long that he could barely remember a time when he was nervous around her.

But with you, he felt the butterflies the moment he saw you at the party. You didn't notice him at first, but he saw you enter the living room and freeze in the doorway, your eyes locked on someone across the room before backing out the way you came, as if you were looking to avoid them. He couldn't catch who it was, having hardly known more than five people in the whole house, but he felt compelled to follow you. To see if you were maybe looking for a husband or boyfriend. But when he saw you alone in the kitchen, staring down at your phone, he couldn't stop himself from saying something to you.

Joel never did things like that. He always kept to himself, very quiet and reserved. He was content with his work during the day and hanging out with Sarah at night.

For the most part, he was happy. It was only at night when the loneliness crept up, when he tucked himself into his big, cold bed and tried his best to fall asleep as fast as he could, so he wouldn't lay there wishing someone who cared for him was just in the bathroom washing up.

Tommy had been encouraging him to get back out there, always offering to watch Sarah if he caught Joel looking a little too long at a waitress or a neighbor. Sarah was old enough to be on her own for a few hours, but he still asked Tommy to stop by, anyway. Maybe part of him wanted his brother to know that he was going on a date, if only so he would stop trying to set him up all the time with women he had no interest in.

Joel reached out to ring the doorbell, cringing when he noticed it was one of those camera doorbells. Paul must have installed it after the house was finished. He heard heavy footsteps on the other side of the door and held his breath, realizing he hadn't thought about your dad's reaction to your date.

Paul swung the door open, greeting Joel with a deep scowl as he leaned up against the doorframe.

"What's up, Joel?" he asked. Joel cleared his throat.

"Hey, Paul. I'm here to pick up your daughter," Joel replied, bracing himself. Paul just stared at him, breathing deeply as he looked Joel up and down. Joel wasn't a small man, but Paul had at least sixty pounds on him. He tended to have an intimidating look until you got to know him.

"Oh, yeah? For what?" Paul asked, clenching his jaw. Joel froze, wondering if there was a reason you didn't tell your parents about tonight, unsure what to say. Finally, Paul's face broke into a huge smile as he began to crack up, doubling over at the waist.

"I'm sorry, Joel, I had to," he wheezed, standing back up and clapping Joel on the shoulder. "Couldn't help myself. Come on in," he said, still laughing as he led Joel down the hall and towards the kitchen.

"Jesus, Paul, scared the shit outta me," Joel admitted, his heart racing as he rubbed his forehead.

"Beer?" Paul asked, and Joel shook his head.

"No thanks, I'm drivin'," he replied, and Paul raised his eyebrows with a nod.

"Good man, passed the first test," he said with a wink as he twisted open a beer for himself. "Hey, uh, in all seriousness, I just wanna talk with you before she comes down."

"Yeah, 'course," Joel replied, leaning up against the counter.

"I ain't sure what she's told you about the asshole she was with before, but he really hurt her. Now, I know it ain't got nothin' to do with you, what's in the past is in the past," he said. "But just keep that in mind, will you? I can't stand seein' my little girl hurt like that again."

Joel nodded solemnly, understanding completely.

"I ain't like that, I'll be respectful, I promise," Joel replied. "Besides, we both know she's goin' back to New York in a few weeks. We're just gettin' to know each other, is all."

"Yeah, she said the same thing to her sister earlier, but then she spent all damn day on the phone, pickin' out an outfit and gettin' herself ready," Paul said with a sigh. "I'm just sayin', be careful with her."

Joel felt a flutter in his chest and tried to hide his smile when he found out you had been thinking about him all day. He was glad he wasn't the only one.

"I hope you weren't waiting long," you told Joel as he backed out of your driveway.

"Not at all," he said with a smirk. "You're worth the wait. You look beautiful." He glanced down again at the light pink sweater with a small designer logo he was unfamiliar with in the corner.

You blushed and bit your lip, quietly thanking him and trying to hide your reaction behind your scarf, but he saw it. He always does.

Now that he knew you were looking forward to this date just as much as he was, he felt a little more confident.

"Did you have a good day?" he asked, giving you a sideways glance as he merged his truck into traffic.

"Yeah, did you?"

"It was alright," he said, slowing the truck down at a stop light. He turned to face you now. "Couldn't wait to see you, though."

You turned a darker shade of pink and he smiled, pleased to see that he could elicit that reaction from you, the same way you do to him.

"So, ice skating?" you said, trying to take the heat off of you. You looked at his hands on the steering wheel, noticing he made sure to take his ring off.

"Yeah," he said, pressing his foot on the gas as the light changed. "Thought you could teach me somethin'."

"Teach you? How do you know if I can even skate?" you asked teasingly.

"Just a hunch. Was I right?" he replied, his mouth turning up into a half smirk. You giggled and he felt his stomach tighten. He needed to hear that again.

"Yeah, you were right," you relented. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth and slapped the steering wheel in victory, making you giggle again, and his chest filled with warmth at the sound.

"Where's Sarah tonight?" you asked him as he pulled into a parking spot at the skating rink.

"My brother's watchin' her," he replied, disappointed that you got out of the truck so quickly. He had planned on opening the door for you.

"Does she like to ice skate?" you questioned as he led you inside to the counter to rent your skates.

"Oh, of course she does. But I usually sit it out and just watch her have fun," he said, picking up your rentals and heading over to a bench.

"You should have brought her, I wouldn't have minded."

"We don't have to talk 'bout her, you know," he said quicky, and your fingers froze over your laces.

"Why wouldn't we talk about her? She's your daughter," you asked slowly, straightening back up to look at him.

"No, I know. What I mean is, I know it ain't every woman's fantasy to go out with a single dad and all the baggage that comes with that. So, if you don't wanna talk about her, I get it," he said, casting his eyes down as he focused on tying his laces. You reached out a hand and gently placed it on top of his, immediately making him freeze at your touch.

"She's part of your life, so I want to hear about her. You shouldn't think like that, Joel. It's really not a dealbreaker for most women," you assured him, gently rubbing your thumb over his knuckles, his eyes glued to your hand as he listened. "And if it is, fuck 'em."

His eyes snapped up to yours now, then a slow smile spread across his face.

"Okay," he said softly, and you smiled, pulling your hand back, leaving him wanting more.

"Besides," you said, standing up on your skates as you made your way to the rink. "You have no idea what kind of fantasies I have."

You turned to give him a wink as you effortlessly stepped out onto the ice, holding out your hands encouragingly for him to follow. It was a miracle he was able to move his legs after that comment, but he managed just because he knew he would feel your warm hands on his again.

Joel was a quick study. He was nervous at first, you could tell that he didn't want to embarrass himself, but he did surprisingly good. Especially considering how crowded the ice rink was and how fast people were skating by. After about half an hour, he was able to skate - albeit, slowly - around the rink next to you without any assistance. Part of you wondered if he pretended to need more help than he really did just so it would make you feel good.

"So, anyway, that's basically what I do for work. It's pretty boring," you said with a sigh.

"Not boring. Marketing in New York City sounds like a dream," he replied.

"Yeah, except I work on all the behind the scenes stuff. It's not really as fun as it sounds," you admitted, not missing work in the slightest since you've been back in Texas.

"Well, d'you work with some fun people, at least?"

You paused, considering his question for a moment, before shaking your head with a dry laugh.

"Not really," you said, but he still tried to help you find a reason why you would put up with it.

"You were able to take off almost a whole month, that's pretty great. Not many places'll let you do that, can't be that bad," he offered, and you scoffed.

"It's the time I saved up for the wedding I was supposed to have," you told him sadly, and he groaned.

"I'm knockin' it outta the park tonight, ain't I?" he said, rubbing his face before almost losing his balance. You giggled and he couldn't stop the huge grin that plastered itself across his face.

"It's fine, you didn't know," you said, waving him off. And for the first time, you really didn't mind talking about it. Something about him made it easier.

"What'dya say we get some hot chocolate?" Joel asked, jutting his chin towards the vendor where you first came in.

"Yeah, that sounds great," you replied. Joel turned towards the exit without looking when a teenage boy, who was speed skating around the rink trying to impress a girl, smacked right into him, sending him flying backwards on the ice.

"Joel!" you exclaimed, rushing to his side. He groaned, rubbing the back of his head.

"Hey, why don't you watch it!" you yelled angrily at the teenager, who had managed to only stumble a bit upon impact.

"Sorry, man," the kid mumbled before taking off.

"I'm gonna kick his ass," you said, about to stand up to go after him, but Joel reached up to grip your arms, holding you in place.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," he said with a chuckle. Sweetheart. Your heart skipped a beat at the term.

"Are you sure?" you asked, your brow furrowed with concern.

"Yeah, just gimme a hand," he said, and you stood to give his arm a firm yank, allowing him to stand.

"Let's get you off the ice," you told him, ushering him carefully to the exit and finding a bench.

"Does your head hurt?" you asked, sitting down next to him. Your fingers reached up to graze the back of his head.

"No," he said breathlessly, staring at you as you continued to study him for any injury. God, you were so beautiful, he couldn't force himself to look away.

"That's good. How about your vision?" you pressed, still so focused on the fall and not seeing the way he was looking at you. But when you finally locked your eyes on his, your breath caught in your throat.

All the laughter and playful yelling surrounding you faded. You couldn't look away from his heated gaze, his deep brown eyes boring into yours so intensely, you almost forgot to blink. He brought his hand up to gently cradle the side of your face, his calloused palm meeting your soft skin. Your lips parted to accommodate your sudden need for more oxygen, and his gaze fell to your mouth.

"Joel," you whispered, and the way his name sounded coming from you was so damn sweet, it almost did him in.

"Yeah?" he whispered back, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Kiss me."

He didn't need to be told twice.

He leaned forward, eyes sliding shut and slotting his lips against yours, deeply breathing in your scent so he could remember it tomorrow. He was determined to commit every second to memory, knowing that by morning he would be aching for you, aching for this. Against his better judgement, he pressed himself into your lips harder, unsure if he will ever get to feel like this again when you inevitably came to your senses. The idea of this feeling being taken away from him spurred him on, desperate and eager for every second you were willing to give him.

Your hand came up to the back of his neck, holding him against you as his lips massaged yours tenderly. You inched closer to him on the bench so you could tuck yourself into his broad chest. He was so warm and soft and strong that it was making you dizzy. Your fingertips stroked the curls at the base of his neck as you tentatively opened your mouth just enough to suck his lower lip between yours. The quiet noise he made when you did that made your insides clench with need, and against all odds, you felt yourself falling, completely losing yourself in him and the moment.

A startling voice over the loudspeaker announcing that the rink was closing in fifteen minutes finally snapped you out of it. You both pulled back but kept your foreheads pressed together as the world around you slowly melted back into focus. His hand still cupped your face and he lifted his thumb to gently trace your swollen lips.

"I should take you home," he murmured. At first, your stomach flipped, thinking he meant his home, but you realized he wasn't that type and he meant your parents' house.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and you sat back reluctantly, breaking away. His hand dropped from your face to the hand in your lap, his thick fingers wrapping around yours for a moment as he collected himself with a deep breath.

Finally, he forced himself to stand, still clutching your hand and helping you up. You glanced down at the floor and smirked.

"We should probably take our skates off," you said, and he chuckled, breaking the tension and sitting back down, his hand reluctantly letting go of yours to undo his laces.

After you turned in your rentals, his hand quickly found yours again, unwilling or unable to let you go as he led you back to his truck, this time making sure to open the car door for you. Thanking him quietly, you jumped up into the cab and watched him round the front of the car, running a hand through his hair and sucking in deep breath.

You grinned and bit your lip as he started the truck, swinging his arm around to grip your headrest and twisting his body to back out of the spot. It took everything in you not to scoot across the seat and tuck yourself into his side.

He let his arm drop loosely on the seat in between you as he drove down the street, one hand on the steering wheel. Your fingers inched forward, sliding your palm underneath his hand, lacing your fingers together. The corners of his mouth tugged into a smile and you drove in a comfortable silence, your hands intertwined the whole time, until he pulled into your driveway and cut the engine.

You sighed as you stared at the darkened house, already missing him and he wasn't even gone yet. He peered over at you, trying to think of a way to prolong the date, but aside from the obvious, which he wasn't going to do just yet, he was coming up empty.

"Lemme walk you up," he said finally, and you nodded, reaching for the handle of the door but he stopped you. You furrowed your brow, confused, until you watched him rush over to open the door, and you grinned, taking his hand so you could slide out of the seat.

You stared at the ground as he led you up the path to the porch, your heart pounding in your ears. You weren't sure what you had been expecting tonight, but it definitely wasn't this feeling. This was so much more.

"Well, thank you for tonight," you said as you reached the door, turning around to look up at him through your lashes. "I had a really good time."

"Yeah, me too," he said, his soft, brown eyes trailing over your face, locking away every little detail. Unable to resist, he stepped forward, his rough hand skimming around to the back of your neck. He tilted your face up, ducking down slightly to meet you halfway and brushed his lips gently over yours.

Your hands flew up to grip the collar of his flannel, keeping him pressed against you as you leaned against the front door. God, for someone who claimed to be rusty, he was a really good kisser. He was gentle and slow and it took your breath away both times. You knew you were getting in over your head, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. All you could think about was him and how badly you wanted more.

Nervously, you opened your mouth and flicked your tongue against his plush lips. He responded by parting his lips and allowing your tongue to dance with his own, his mouth applying more pressure than before as the heat flared between you.

Before you could stop it, a soft moan rumbled from your throat, causing him to pull back, panting slightly as his gaze flickered between your eyes. You gazed up at him, eyes dark and desperate, your fingers still gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly.

You weren't sure what he was searching for, but after a moment he seemed to find it because his mouth came crashing down on yours once again, this time with more yearning and desire. His tongue probed inside your mouth, licking past your teeth and in the back of your mind you realized he tasted faintly of mint and you wondered when on earth he popped a mint into his mouth but it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered except the two of you in that moment, each seeking something within the other that you never expected to find.

His chest ached knowing he would have to stop kissing you soon, or else he would never leave. He always considered himself a strong man, after everything he had been through, how could he not? But something about you made him realize he wasn't nearly as strong as he thought. Your lips were so soft compared to his, so sweet and perfect that it made him want to cry because in that moment, he knew he could never let you go.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel x reader #joel x reader smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal #the last of us game #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #hallmark christmas movies #hallmark #christmas #joel miller christmas

[hysteria-things]

ZIPPER (part one)

read part two here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the struggle is real for you and this stupid zipper. who knew it could lead to something with your brother’s best friend?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY SMUT SMUT, swearing, oral (female receiving), p in v, degradation, dacryphilia, spanking, praising, orgasm denial, breeding, ROUGH ASF

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,889

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is my favorite thing i’ve written so far and it’s DEF smuttier than anything else i’ve posted😭

you groan as you reach for the zipper that’s on your back. you’re wearing a short dress for the party you’re going to tonight with your brother and his three best friends. you sometimes tag along, and tonight is one of those nights. music from your speaker plays softly as you get ready.

or at least try to.

frustration builds in your body when you bend your arm at every angle to try to get the damn zipper, but it’s no use.

suddenly, a figure passes by your door. “nate?” you call out.

chris’s head peeks into your room with a chuckle. “nope. chris.”

you sigh. “can you help me with this zipper, please?”

it all happened so fast. the dress that you were struggling with minutes ago is now thrown on the floor along with your panties. the zipper is most likely broken by the way he yanked the dress off of your body.

your mouth is agape as you look down at chris between your thighs, who’s slowly licking up your folds. you breathe heavily, watching his every move. the music that was softly playing now plays loud so it can coat over the sounds coming from you.

your hands grip and massage his hair while you lean your head back onto the mattress and start grinding your hips against his face in desperate need of more friction. his nose grazes against your clit, his tongue following the movements of your hips.

his arms wrap under your thighs and hold you in place. “be patient.” he demands.

“they’re going to come look for us,” you whine in response.

“then we better use our time wisely, yeah?”

his tongue picks up speed, earning a gasp from you. your eyes roll to the back of your head, and soundless moans are leaving your lips that are formed in an ‘o’ shape. you lift your legs to where your knees are almost touching your cheeks, causing chris to dig into you deeper.

a warm sensation builds up in your stomach that makes your eyes squeeze shut and your eyebrows furrow. “i’m gonna cum.” you choke out, practically suffocating him as your legs squeeze in both sides of his head.

he doesn’t say anything and keeps eating you out, completely drunk off your pussy. although, he couldn’t help but take one of his hands to palm himself through his clothed erection.

your legs start to tremble when the fluid smothers all over chris’s mouth.

his face rises from between your legs. his lips are glistening from your release, and you see he has no shirt on. you didn’t even notice when he took it off and his tent is visible in his dress pants.

crawling onto the bed, he’s now hovering over your face. you stare at him in the eyes as his lips ghost yours. there’s so much tension that your lips tingle in desire to connect with his.

as if he read your mind, he leans in with an open-mouthed kiss. he hums at the contact, forcing his tongue into your mouth so you can taste yourself.

it’s filthy, but you’ve never been so turned on.

he pulls away first to let you guys breathe, a string of saliva connecting each of your bottom lips before it breaks apart the more he moves away. “ass up, baby.”

without hesitation, you turn onto your stomach. his hands grip your waist and pull you up toward him so your ass is on full display. he groans at the sight. you’re still glistening from your orgasm.

chris undoes his belt and pulls down his pants and boxers simultaneously. his cock springs out, and the sudden whiff of cool air makes him wince. pre-cum leaks from the tip. it took everything in his body to not cum in his pants when he was eating you out.

you bite your lip in excitement as he grips your hips and teases your entrance. his tip makes its way into you, and it makes you wince in pain. “breathe for me, okay?” he reassures, pushing more of himself into you.

you let out a pained moan as you feel him stretching your walls. he’s fucking huge.

he sits there for a few seconds so you can accommodate his size. and then, he pushes fully into you. he throws his head back with a submissive sound.

he twitches inside of you when he feels his orgasm coming, even though he hasn’t even done anything yet. chris feels embarrassed, seeming like a teenage boy who’s having sex for the first time.

he tries to imagine the grossest things to distract him. it works, thank god.

“so tight,” he says, jutting his hips forward in slow thrusts. you whimper and grip the sheets below you because of the pain, but it soon goes away the more he stimulates you.

when chris plans to go faster, your phone vibrates with an incoming phone call. “answer it.”

“w-what?” you stammer, trying to look back at him from over your shoulder.

he leans to your nightstand and grabs your phone, forcing it in front of your face. “i said; answer. it.”

your shaky hand takes the phone and you swipe answer without looking at the name. “h-hello?”

“are you almost ready? we have to leave soon.” nate’s voice says on the other line. your eyes widen with fear, but chris finds this amusing and chuckles instead.

“n-not yet.” you bite down on your lip trying to suppress the sounds you want to let out. chris is still thrusting slowly, but he’s so big that the tip is already starting to brush against your cervix.

“and do you know where chris is? we haven’t seen him in a while.”

“i-i don’t know, nate. he’s probably in the bathroom or something,” you say in one breath. you remove the phone from your ear and plop your face down into the pillow to muffle your moan as chris hits that spot again.

you bring the phone back to your ear and exhale. “i-i’ll be done soon, nate.”

he’s silent for a beat before speaking. “okay. see ya down here when you’re ready.”

you quickly hang up the phone and throw it somewhere on the floor. chris starts to go faster, moans shooting out of you in pieces. “in the bathroom, huh?” he mocks.

“shut u—” you’re cut off by a harsh slap on your right thigh, followed by rubbing that soothes the pain.

“i don’t want to hear any other words come out of your mouth except those pretty sounds you make. the only thing you’ll be able to think about is my dick buried inside of you.”

“but—”

another slap and rub. his pace turns animalistic, causing you to bury your face into the pillows again. you moan an apology into the pillow, but it was pretty much incoherent.

your white knuckles on the sheets make chris smirk. you clench around his dick and he groans. “so perfect. such a perfect pussy.”

“chris—” you pant. “chris—”

“what? do you need to cum again already? you want to cum all over my cock?”

he grips your hair and lifts your head slightly. you want to answer, but pathetic moans are the only thing you’re capable of letting out.

thank god for the music playing, or the claps of your guys’ skin and the squeaking of the bed can give you away in an instant. “ple-ease. let me c-cum.” you struggle.

“hold it.” chris says through gritted teeth.

he rails into you harder than before, his hand that was gripping your hair now holding your head down on its side into the mattress. you yelp like a dog beneath him, drool falling down your chin creating a mess below you.

your arousal starts leaking from you and chris moans. “take it… just like that. good girl.”

you buck your hips more into him, and he grips your waist tighter, which will leave marks for a few days. “yeah? you like that?”

eyes becoming filled with tears, you nod your head and moan into the pillows as a yes.

“your brother would hate me if he knew what i’m doing to you.” chris starts. “who knew his little sister was such a slut?”

your grip starts to loosen on the sheets since the pleasure is getting too much. you start to see specks of white every time you blink. you’re a brain-dead mess underneath your brother’s best friend.

but my god can he fuck. and he fucks good.

he speaks lowly into your ear. “too bad you’re my best friend’s sister, or i’d fuck a baby into you right now.”

you try to look at his face with teary eyes, but his grip stays on your head.

“we’d make cute ones, no?”

you blab a response. he leans so his face is right in front of your tongue sticking out, drooling mess. the lean also causes him to go deeper and hit spots you didn’t even know existed. “you want my cum you filthy fucking whore? you’re squeezing my cock like you do.”

you scream, sobs of pleasure leaving your lips. you’re on the pill, but feeling him let go inside of you will send you over the edge.

you’ve been holding it in for too long, and you need to let go now.

“please.” you whimper. “cum in me.”

you repeat that same sentence over and over again like a prayer, and you can tell he’s close based off of his thrusts becoming sloppy.

“you’re being so good for me.” he grunts. “such a good girl.”

chris looks at where you’re connected, his jaw slacks as he watches himself pound the shit out of you. the way your ass bounces with each thrust has his dick twitching. your second orgasm approaches, streaking your cream down his cock.

“fuck.” chris mumbles, jolting into you one last time before spilling inside of you. he watched as his dick repeatedly disappears into your folds to make sure you took his seed before pulling out.

he admires the mess you both made, taking his fingers and shoving your/his release back inside you. you hiss at the sensitivity.

some of it still oozes out because of the way he just fucked you full.

he rolls you onto your back and cups your face, wiping the tears streaming down your face with his thumbs. “you okay?”

you lazily smile and nod. you’re still fuzzy with post-sex haze. he looks in a few of the bedside drawers before finding a towel and carefully cleaning you up with it.

he throws on his clothes, finishing the remaining buttons on his pants before looking down at you.

“by the way.” he starts, kneeling to grab your panties from the floor and putting them in his pocket.

“hm?” you hum, waiting for an answer.

“you’re going to have to find a different dress. the zipper broke on that one.” he comes over and kisses you on the temple. “you better get ready before it’s too late.”

with that, he walks out of your room. you stay there, all naked and still trying to catch your breath.

however, you’re not worried about finding another dress. you’re worried about how you have to hide the fact that chris’ cum is going to drip down your legs the entire night.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fluff

[hazelfoureyes]

I just need you to know this story has had me in a chokehold and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I am enjoying writing it. This is gonna be a weird smutty slow burn, so still smut every post but full p in v sex will be a reward you have to work for?

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Redsmut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedysmut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

「warnings/tags: HumanAlastor x FemaleReader, implied attempt to SA, fingering, plot with porn?, Multi part work, bad kind of choking, blood kink, blood licking, just in general blood, Non-Sex repulsed Ace Spectrum Alastor, stalking, murder obvs, finger sucking, smoking kinda kills if you squint, Public sex acts, garter belt, You have a stage name but no one important uses it, Greed, Lust, Human Alastor is a little different than Demon Alastor. 」

minors dni 💅🏽

Part 1 Pretty in Red

The marriage between burlesque and jazz wasn’t unexpected. Before the Great Depression took the nation into a stranglehold, both Jazz and Burlesque were immoral wastes of time only the most barbaric sought out.

And oh, did you love it. Everyone who was made to feel like nobody flocked to your theater and the surrounding neighborhood. Men, women, the people who didn’t agree with either. The biblically inclined, those closer to sodom, the sapphic dolls. Everyone was equal in the halls of jazz rooms and theatres where burlesquers were welcome.

Because of the inclusive nature of such places, you often saw familiar faces. It wouldn’t be unusual for someone from Thursday night to be seen Saturday at a different locale.

That presented certain opportunities and challenges. When you found a good mark, it was easy to be wherever he was and play it off as fate and common interests.

And when you gained a new stalker, someone wanting a personal show, it could be hard to tell until it was too late. 

Maybe it was your greed, or just your love of attention, but you found yourself focused almost entirely on a particularly well dressed man one evening. You’d seen him around before. Clean cut, sharp suit, a welcoming smile always on display. He looked like he had money, the most attractive quality of any man you could meet.

So focused on his gleaming stare from the side booths you hadn’t noticed the man at the stage front tables. You barely noticed him the night before, or the night before that, either. Because Smiles, as you took to calling the handsome stranger in the back, had been here three nights now too.

You really put on a show. Shimmying your hips, ostrich feathers following suit with every move. Your brassiere was heavy with shining rhinestones, panties of silk and lace. Your set was almost done, all that was left was to remove your top and slink away behind the curtains to hollers and whistles. Back turned, you unhooked the painful bra and let it fall to the stage with a clunk. Foot in front of foot, you stalked the stage length. With your hand hidden from view you took the feathered fan from the stagehand behind the curtain. As the music crescendoed you turned, fan unfurling just in time to hide yourself.

Groans, mass begging from the audience. Your stage name a chant now, a prayer. “Autumn! Come on!”

As the band slowed, music dying to mark the end of your number, you scanned the crowd. Eyes blinking coyly, you mouthed, “More? Did you want more?”

People were jumping to their feet, not Smiles but that was fine, you were focused now on the adoration of the crowd. The music ended, a second of silence. 

You winked, the drums hitting one last beat as you let the fan close.

Fanfare! Men whistling, women clapping. Someone shouted a marriage proposal. You took a bow, twirled on the balls of your feet and slipped gracefully behind the curtains.

Your hands wound to your spine, rubbing blood flow back into your skin as the staff removed your headdress. Someone slipped your robe over you and you nodded a thanks, aching feet carrying you to the dressing room. It was chaos, as usual. Women buzzing around, tits and ass here and there. You smiled. You happened to enjoy this part of the job. Soft bodies in shiny costumes, lovely smells and sweet voices. If you could get dressed quickly enough, you could still take a tour of the room and slide into Smiles’ booth. 

“Enjoy the show?” You’d ask. He’d lean in, maybe blush, “Always when you’re here.” Or something like that. You’d cozy up to him, flag down a waiter for something strong and pricey, and get him properly drunk. He’d wake up outside, fine and dandy except his missing cash. 

You’ll call him a drunkard if he confronts you, accuse him of getting himself robbed after you refused his advances. You’ll say it too loudly, and he’ll run off. 

You danced a little in your seat, another game of cat and mouse about to commence. But first, a smoke.

Unbeknownst to you, the well dressed man hadn’t come to see you. He preferred your singing shows at the little dive bar two blocks over. No, he had come for the man at the front table. For weeks now, he had watched him harassing the ladies of the few joints in New Orleans that weren’t regularly hounded by police. Your smiley mark even heard stories of unsavory acts, many women leaving the dance scene entirely after.

He didn’t care for it. He didn’t care for him. So he took to his hunt, following the man to come to his own conclusions. The pattern of behavior was obvious, and though he hadn’t seen what ended the last obsession, it was clear one of the performers at this club was being stalked as the next victim. 

He watched your dance with half lidded eyes, just as much as he watched the man give dirty looks to the other men cheering. Heard the, “Marry me!” shouted at you.

Yes, it was obvious to him now. 

So when the target of his interest got up and pushed his way into a staff only door, well, the well dressed man was sure to follow. 

The great thing about confidence and a nicely tailored suit is that no one questions you about why you are where you are. So while the brute he tailed had to shove past people to get wherever he was going, people smiled and made room for the gentleman who was not far behind.

He caught the street access door before it closed, allowing it to stay open just a sliver. Enough for one golden brown eye to watch the events unfold.

“Can I have a light?” The stranger asked you. You looked at him, then to the staff only entrance he just came out of. 

“I don’t think I know you….,” you handed him the lighter but he instead leaned into you, cigarette hanging from his lips. “You… new?”

You sparked the flint with a practiced thumb, taking three tries to get it lit, and put your hand out. The man didn’t budge, eyebrows rising, “You really don’t recognize me?” He asked, motioning with his hand to come closer. Your eyes glanced down the alley, cars slowly moving past the street. When you looked back, the man took your wrist in his hand. He held you so tightly that the muscles in your palm locked and you dropped the lighter. 

“What the fu-,” his hand came across your face, halting your sentence.

“I’m your best customer. Every show. I’m the one who brings flowers.”

Dozens of men bring flowers, especially on the weekend shows. You held your cheek, skin burning. Your hand pulled back, the corner of your lip bleeding from his rings. Scrambling, your mind was searching for the right words.

With a forced smiled, your shaky voice finally piped up, “Oh! Yeah! Oh geez. I am so sorry, doll. I’m just so tired, and the alley is so dark. Here, let’s go inside so I can get a better look at you.” You tried to take your wrist from him but he didn’t loosen up.

“Nah, you ain’t tricking me. You owe me.” He pulled you into him, large hand gripping your face with ease, “You can’t lead on men like this and think you don’t gotta answer for it.” He kissed you, forcing your face into his. “Bitch! Did you fucking bite me?” He threw you into the tin trash cans beside the wall, knocking the wind out of you. 

No purse, no sharp object, not even a heeled shoe to defend yourself with. You cursed, so preoccupied with Smiles you forgot your wits.

You spit out the copper saliva, his blood and yours. “I’ll keep biting, too.” 

Why scream? The sounds of the next act were bouncing off the brick walls. Upbeat jazz and applause echoing around you. No one would hear you. Men can break your body but you never had to give them your dignity. Never give them the satisfaction of a response.

No. No screaming. You instead spent your energy trying to get to your feet. He took hold of your neck now, throttling you. It wasn’t what you had expected, but as he lifted you off the ground and your little dressing room slippers fell off, you thought this was actually better. 

“Well I think that’s quite enough.”

You felt warmth, then registered wetness. Your shin scraped on the asphalt as you were dropped without warning. Trying to open your eyes, you found you couldn’t see. Wiping and blinking away the foreign liquid, you watched your attacker fall to his knees.

Blood was shooting from between his fingers around his own neck, each pulse becoming weaker and weaker, evident through the stream.

When he finally fell over, drained, you were startled to see another man with you. The light reflected off his glasses as he adjusted them, the knife still in his right hand as he did so. 

“My, my. What a mess he’s made.” The man smiled down at you, offering a hand. When you didn’t immediately react, he cocked his head to the left, “Is that anyway to treat your rescuer?”

Is that was this was? A rescue? You took his hand with both of yours, pulling yourself up. 

Smiles? You blinked away the shock, time to shift into your next part. Damsel. You weren’t out the woods yet.

“You saved my life!” As you pressed yourself into his chest, you tucked your head beneath his chin. You tried to make yourself small. “I owe you! Please let’s go inside, drinks on me!” You looked up, batting your lashes.

“I don’t think that’s wise, dear.” His gaze panned down your dress, soaked through. He could see the thinking behind your eyes.

“No, right….,” You gripped his vest, “We gotta get outta here, fast. There’s a hotel just behind the threatre.” You started to pull his suit jacket off, slipping it over yourself. “No cops, the theatre will get raided. Just— take me somewhere safe?”

You watched him look you over, arm finally extending to let you hook yours with his. 

As soon as the hotel door closed behind you, you slipped off his jacket and ran to the dressing table mirror. 

Your face was painted red, navy dress now black and sticky. It was good you stayed from view of the reception staff. “I didn’t get my rescuer’s name,” you licked your thumb and rubbed at the blood around your cheeks. 

“Alastor. It’s a pleasure.”

You laughed, “Is that what you call a pleasure?” Turning, you pulled the mostly still dry handkerchief from your pocket and dabbed the corner on your tongue. You brought it up to the frame of his glasses and wiped the blood from the metal. “I’d hate to see what you call a bad time.”

Your hand slowed, noticing the way he was looking at you. Typically men’s pupils were blown when they fell on you, but his were constricted. They flitted around your face. His hand took hold of yours, fingers separating the thumb from the handkerchief. He pulled the little square of yellow fabric free with his other hand, allowing him to hold your thumb now by itself.

His lips opened, tongue licking the blood stained finger before placing it directly into his mouth.

Your stared, horrified, as he sucked the digit clean. 

His eyes fluttered close, finger popping out of his mouth with a debauched sound. You made no attempt to take back your hand. The realization you may have hopped out of the frying pan and into the fire set in.

“You are a funny one, aren’t you?” You tried to sound as in control as possible. Calm. Unwavered. Offered a timid smile. 

He chuckled, “You could say that. May I?” His fingers lifted your chin. You didn’t know what he was asking. His soft smile looked downright loving. He smelled so good, notes of something earthy rising above the copper.

You nodded, because part of you wanted to see where it would go. And part of you thought you didn’t have a choice.

As his face came to yours, you instinctually closed your eyes expecting a kiss. But no, instead you felt his tongue wipe across the cut at the corner of your mouth. His breath blanketed your cheek. Then his hand left your chin, the warmth of his body gone entirely. 

You opened your eyes to see him at the door, slipping back into his jacket, “I’ll pay for the night.” He tipped his head to you and exited the room back first, eyes locked with yours until the door closed.

You just stood there in the silence left behind. But as if on cue, the adrenaline waned and your knees buckled under you. You were moments from death, now somehow spared. But what had he— Alastor, been doing there? Did he follow you, too? The cat and mouse had been flipped, or perhaps now this was a fox and hound?

Gripping the dressing table, you pulled yourself up and into the view of the mirror again. Face streaked in dried blood save for the one clean spot where your lips met cheek. 

You felt like a ghost the next day. It would be nice to tell someone about what happened but, “Hey a man tried to kill me and then another man killed him! Then he licked blood off my face and I let him. It was the most disturbingly erotic thing to happen to me in months!” would get you tossed into a wagon. 

“Are you rude or just stupid?” The theatre manager pulled you aside by the arm when you came into rehearsal. “You can’t just disappear like that, people were waiting.”

Your eyes narrowed, “Was… my absence really the most exciting part of the evening? Not the John in the gutter?”

He huffed, “So that’s it? Got a beau?”

“Wait— nothing else happened last night? After I left?” 

“This show doesn’t revolve around you. Plenty happened.”

“Excuse me,” you hurried into the back, “And sorry!”

You opened the street access door and looked into the alley. Trash cans neat and tidy, no dead man, nothing strange or telltale.

You ducked back inside. Had Smiles done this? Obviously, actually. No stranger just cleaned up the dead body. If the flatfeet had found him, the club would have been under scrutiny.

Good, you thought, and went about your work.

Rehearsal dragged on. Little details summoning you back to the night before. 

“You okay?” Another performer asked, grabbing your hand and inspecting the blood around your cuticles.

“Oh it’s not mine!” You laughed, she laughed, you walked off before she could clarify.

When applying your makeup, you remembered his hands on your face. They were so soft. Definitely a man of means. A brief intrusive thought, the other hands on your face last night.

You pranced on stage, going through the motions of your routine. Even in the empty hall, your eyes wandered to the booth he’d been in. And as you took the stage in earnest later that night you searched the crowd for the glint of his glasses and found nothing shiny nor promising.

Back in the dressing room you took a moment to wonder what the actual fuck you we’re doing. He murdered a man in front of you, why were you hoping to see him again? He had half a mind to kill you next.

But would that really be so bad?  Your life was routine, boring even. The only thing keeping your lungs expanding was the applause. Maybe the headlines of your death would cause such an uproar, dancer struck down in her prime, that you could bask in the loving glow all the way from hell.

One way to remain famous, you considered. A dramatic death.

Not that you were famous. You weren’t part of the national circuits. Just your local theatres, a common face and body to the sinners of Louisiana’s most infamous city. But, well, fame is relative. For the scene you were in, you were your own little star. 

A shining light. Shimmering. The faint light reflecting off— Blood. For a second you could only remember looking through bloodied, heavy lashes. 

“You’ve been so out of it. Trouble in paradise?” Ruth, the curviest of your coworkers and arguably the favorite of the crew, rested her chin on your head. Looking at each other in the mirror, you offered a soft smile.

“I’ll letcha know when I get there.”

She pinched your cheek, “Tommy said you had a new guy. I just figured-,”

“That isn’t,” you clenched your eyes shut, “no, no guy. I just got locked out last night in the alley. The sticky-,” sticky and viscous blood, “back door wouldn’t open up. I didn’t want to come in the front in my slippers so I just hoofed it home.” 

She patted your head, “if you say so! Be careful out there though. Dangerous these days.” 

An understatement.

You enjoyed the spotlight, but more than that you craved the attention doted on you after. You’d walk through the hall to the bar to adoring looks and free drinks. It bothered you that Tommy was telling the girls you had a man. You didn’t want to appear too closed off, or for word to spread to the customers. 

Last thing you needed was men passing you by for more available options. Not that the pay wasn’t fine. Ends were being met, but grifting added an element of thrill. You really did love the chase. Finding someone and deciding he would be yours, he would fall under your spell and be at your feminine mercy. It made you feel powerful, almost mythical. And the money was nice. Sometimes you didn’t even need to steal, the men would just lavish you in gifts and you’d let it fizzle out naturally. Normally their wives would snatch them back or they’d just get tired of waiting for you to leave the stage and dance into their domestic dreams. A housewife? An adopted mother to a grown man during the day, a hungry nymph at night? For what, an allowance and a home you didn’t own? Pass. Where’s that handsome man with his knife? That was a much better steel to fall onto than what these men offered from their laps.

From your view at the bar you knew he wasn’t there. But with a nod you decided the chase was still on. You were going to get your victory. If anything, this would be easier. You had dirt on him. Blackmail would be simple enough. Bloody clothes and the perfect alibi; being a woman. No cop would think you took down that hulking man. 

Ah, right. There was no body.

That would be an issue. He had to have taken it somewhere. Just find him and follow. Worst case scenario, you play the usual game and steal whatever cash was in his wallet.

Well, worst case you die. 

You slept sitting up to keep your hair set, during the day your makeup barely was there but a red lip always the star. You had three nice dresses (well, you had had four) so you figured three nights to find him before moving on.

You slinked through the crowds of the hot and sweaty dance club Moxie. Swinging music kept bodies moving, and though you kept your eyes open you didn’t catch sight of this Alastor fellow. Which was fine! You enjoyed a few dances, swing always making you feel energized. Not a waste of a Friday night.

Saturday was easy, the lounge on fifth. Smooth jazz, plush chairs, rich men. Definitely a place you could imagine Smiles to frequent. The whisky was all top shelf, and many gentlemen offered you a lap to sit. Sure, no Alastor, but you didn’t go home empty handed.

You weren’t a particularly great singer, but if the room was small enough and the piano loud enough, you could please a crowd. Your friend had you on a semi-set schedule most Sundays at her little dive too many blocks from Main Street. Her darling played piano, you sat and sang to the couple dozen patrons stuffed into the one room bar. When you finished your set, you took your bows and looked for your friend. You needed to tell her you wouldn’t be staying. 

Your polite nods and gracious thank yous were abruptly ended by a tap on your shoulder, “You dropped this, miss.” You did a mental check of your purse before turning around.

“Oh, a sight for sore eyes. Mr. Alastor.” Your face lit up, you could see it in his glasses.

“You’re too kind. Here, I apologize for the delay. I wanted to return them clean.” In his hand was your yellow handkerchief, folded neatly. You took it and found it uncharacteristically heavy. 

When you unfurled it, your brass lighter fell into your waiting palm. Your thumb caressed the engraving. 

Alastor watched your face as the lighter tumbled out. “I figured it was important, given the condition and detailing.”

You tested the weight in your hand, “Did you fill it?” You looked to him incredulously.  He nodded.

It was a surprisingly kind act, and you needed a second to regain your composure. “I don’t know how to thank you.” Your quick wit failed for a moment, but rebounded fast. “Except with a drink. My treat. To my rescuer.”

He mulled the idea, your reaction to him was interesting. Alastor had thought if he approached you first you’d show a little more fear, or shock. But you looked downright chipper to see him there. 

“Unfortunately I don’t have much time tonight. I had just wanted to return your items.”

Your smile dropped. How did he know you were here? Had he been carrying— no, he said he had them cleaned. Had he seen you here before, before the incident? A chuckle, smile brought back, “My luck is terrible. You always flee me. I hope you don’t see my company as deadweight.”

Alastor’s smile twitched, eyes hidden behind the glare of his glasses, “Not at all! I think you’d find I’m quite comfortable with-.”

“Lugging people around?” You said. That constricted pupil again, eyes wild. A chill ran down your spine. Alarms were going off. Wrong answer. You straightened your back, popping the items into your purse, “Next time.”

Alastor nodded, “Yes. Next time, then.”

You fucked it up. You knew you had, but suddenly his words felt like a thinly veiled threat. 

You turned to leave and hadn’t seen his smile sour.

It hadn’t been a threat. He hadn’t anticipated you to notice the implication. Most people would have been so blinded by his charm they would fail to notice the glaring red flags. He was mildly impressed. You would be more trouble than he had expected.

Alastor knew he needed to do something about the clearly clever woman who was seemingly expecting him. He had followed you for several days, surprised to find you not spreading word about the murder. You hadn’t spoken to anyone, really. Even the man you left the lounge with, you just smiled and nodded nearly all evening while the man dominated the conversation. So, your sharp wit took him off guard. Who were you pretending to be? And why?

All of your cleverness fell apart when you tried to follow him. It was almost comical. He felt bad. This was going to be embarrassing for you.

He took several right turns and stepped into the park just outside of the bar. You thought perhaps he had gotten lost and considered turning around after you realized you’d lost sight of him. As you passed a large weeping willow, you were pulled under the curtains of hanging moss by your waist.

Back against the large tree, you could only pout.

“What are you after, stalking a man in the dead of night?” Alastor had you pinned, both hands on either side of your head. His body boxed you in, not that there was much more to see than moss and darkness.

You blinked several times. What a question. You answered honestly, “You.” He cocked a brow. Then you lied, “Your affection. Your time.”

Something akin to a giggle bubbled from his chest. “I don’t have much affection, but I have even less time.” Your eyes darted around, looking for your next move. “I-,” you grabbed him by the face and kissed him. When you broke the kiss he was staring wide eyed, glasses askew. He opened his mouth to speak and you kissed him again, longer, harder.

He seemed frozen under your mouth, lips taut. Your hands roamed his face, messing up his hair and glasses. Mind reeling. Play the nymph. Be the whore the men always said they hated. Be too strong, too forward, too much and he’ll run off like men do. You could try again another day.

Your hand reached for his lap, his hips instinctively jerking away. Perfect. Men these days can’t get it up for a woman who takes the lead. 

Alastor was entirely unsure what the fuck was happening. You were wildly unpredictable. When you grabbed at his dick, he thought his eyes would cross from the shock. Is this what ‘affection’ meant to you? He couldn’t understand it. Couldn’t understand you. Were you really just lustful? Even after what you’d seen him—

You bit at his bottom lip, pulling slightly. Big eyes looking back at him. Your breath was already running away from you, adrenaline seemingly synonymous with Alastor. Staring up at him, you waited. His move.

It was his turn to blink. He looked off to his left, eyes swinging back to you. With a shrug, he leaned his body back towards yours. His hand slid down the front of your dress; red silk. A deer in the headlights, you tensed. The rare third option; fight, flight, freeze. Soon his fingers were tracing the lace of your stockings, climbing up the garter straps. 

His eyes were studying your face. You didn’t want to give the wrong answer again, but at this point you weren’t sure any answer was right. This was taking a sudden turn and your foot was off the brake. You closed your eyes, opting out of the scrutiny of his stare. His hand met your stomach and began to slip down again. He rested it between your thighs, longer fingers and palm cupping the entirety of your sex.

Alastor struggled to decipher your expression. It was almost like a pout, but more subtle. You hadn’t said stop or pushed him away yet. Was he right? You were just… horny? As his hand slid back up and pried their way into your panties, you trembled.

It had been so long since someone else’s hand was on you. Someone whose hands you genuinely enjoyed, who you wanted to be on you.

Is that right? You wanted him to touch you? 

Maybe it was the stare, or the smile. Probably just the adrenaline.

His hand found its place again, middle finger bending to part your folds and feel your wetness. You whimpered, hand coming to cover your own mouth. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He said it low, a husky tone he didn’t have before.

No. Maybe. You nodded yes.

“Will you be satisfied now? No more tailing me?”

No. Probably not. Another nod.

His finger pushed in, and with a kind of greed you didn't recognize your hips ground down into his palm. He slipped in and out of you with ease. You had no idea when or why you got so wet.

“I always end up dripping around you, Alastor,” you whispered through your fingers. His ring finger joined. Why couldn’t you shut up? Why did you have to bring up, well, the murder?

“A common problem for those I take an interest in.” 

Oh no. You moaned softly into your hand. Sharp mind made dull by his fingers so you didn’t, couldn’t, process his double meaning. 

Oh no. The sounds of footsteps, a pair of lovers sneaking into the park for privacy. You heard their giggles, the sounds of kisses interrupting their walking.

“Shhh”, he breathed into your ear as he worked a third finger into your heat. One knuckle, two knuckles. A whimper. His hand came to press down over your own on your mouth, a second barrier for your mewling. You groaned, the sound coming from your throat.  

Whispers. The silhouette of the two interlopers was visible through the willow’s curtains. You watched from over his shoulder, pussy clenching around him. Three knuckles deep, bottoming out.

Fuck it. You moaned freely into your hand, wiggling down onto his hand. Hips rolling, you let your little sounds of praise flow.

The couple laughed, “That’s the spirit!” A man said, a woman hushing him and pulling him away.

Alastor grinned into your neck, immensely amused. He would have better luck predicting a dice roll than your next move. 

You hadn’t realized how hollow you’d been until now, feeling so full. When alone, you focused on just cumming, fingers on your clit and mind on memories. You never bothered much with anything else.

Your hunger intensified. You wanted more. Both hands reached for his crotch again, finding nothing there for you. You could have cried. How were you a wet mess pressed against a tree and he was soft as a newspaper in a rainstorm?

Your pride stung. Men usually stood at attention around you. A half sob into the air earned you a chuckle from Alastor. “It’s no reflection of you, darling.” His nose nudged your ear lobe, “I need a little different stimulation than most.”

“Do you play for the other team?” You considered how you could momentarily switch. 

A louder laugh, “I don’t have a team.” He leaned back now to look at you. His freehand came to press on your lower stomach, gently pushing your womb down. Your brows knit, why did that feel so good? Hands going to the tree behind you for stability.

“Sure feels like you know how to play. This is-,” his hand switched from thrusting slowly in and out to moving front and back. It sent vibrations up into you. Your eyes rolled close. Shut up. Stop talking. Focus. Close.

He kissed around your open mouth, “Well, it’d be unamerican to not dabble. When necessary, or when the conditions are right.”

Double speak over, “Just tell me what to do to get you to fuck me.”

Alastor’s head fell back as he laughed earnestly, most likely alerting anyone in the immediate area. “Ha! No, this is more fun.”

“Oh fuck you,” you brought a hand around to your throbbing clit to quicken your release.

“Maybe next time, dear.” He took a second, fingers in you sliding around your walls in search of something before finding his place and continuing. Your breath noticeably changed, instead of panting you were practically holding it in. You needed the pressure, you needed something to squeeze that spring of pleasure down so it could snap back. As your face went flush, he kissed at your temple, “You look so pretty in red.”

“Oh god-,” Your head fell onto his chest, your joint effort bringing you to orgasm. 

“A little late on Sunday for prayers, don't you think?”

A tiny scream into his suit pocket, his hand not stopping until your thighs finished twitching around him. Even after his hand stopped moving you gripped him by the wrist and rolled onto his fingers a few more times. The pleasure ebbing but still spiking every time he moved against you. 

Ah, greed. That was it. He understood a little better. This wasn’t lust, not alone.  You were definitely a mix of the two. With a sigh, you released your hold and let him slide out of you. Already you felt lonelier. Already you wished to start over.

With his dry hand he smoothed out your dress. You weren’t ashamed but you suddenly felt too embarrassed to look him the eye. But you did, hearing him hum as he sucked his fingers clean. 

Why were you only ever in his mouth in the strangest ways?

“You always taste so sweet, dear. Now!” You wanted to say something clever and salacious like, ‘there’s more where that came from’ but he didn’t afford you the opportunity. He offered you his hooked arm, “It’s dangerous in the park at night. Let’s get you to a cab and on your way home.”

“Is this a hobby of yours?” Your legs were wobbly but otherwise fine. “Illegal activities in public?”

“Funny, I was just wondering the same of you. Stalking is a crime, dear.”

You bit your lip. “Touché.”

He flagged down a taxi, “Tell him where to go.” You slid into the back seat and half-whispered to the driver. Alastor leaned into the passenger side front window and after paying the man, went to close your door, “You’ve been an entertaining sparring partner. Goodbye, sweetheart.”

With a thud of the door and a growl of the engine, you were driving away from him. You could see him in the rear window. He didn’t dare to move, he didn’t need you following another step of his.

Which was unfortunate for him, as you were already scheming how to find him again.

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @angelicwillows

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions

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