#And then fucked off and refused to take part in the story anymore
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#Okay OCs can we give it a rest with the character info that's legit too fucked up for me to do anything with#Not going into details because No but really!#Fantastic insight into some thematic foils I could potentially throw up against your character Hathellang thats great#Now lets all collectively work on bleaching it out of our minds forever okay#Its nothing to do with anything thats actually canon about him but its just that he wants a fucked up dark au#Where he becomes the worst version of himself a la Léonys in the let there be fire verse#Hes decided just now#Except the worst version of Hathellang as it turns out is. Kinda fucked up. In a not very fun way.#So ive vetoed it and hes sulking#Its not my fault that you are the way that you are buddy#I mean it kind of is but we both have to deal with it#I should be grateful hes so cooperative honestly#I had another oc once who when I gave him a nominal understanding of the fact that he was fictional#In order to facilitate these little chats#Promptly decided that the most interesting thing about him was that he preferred pancakes to waffles#And then fucked off and refused to take part in the story anymore#At least Hathellang is working with me on this
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hey queen! can you pls do an angst story with chris. where they get into an argument and chris said things he never meant. then he apologizes to her afterwards. ( basically angst to fluff)
damsel in distress | chris sturniolo.
i added my own twist to this ask. it's my favourite prompt so thank you! 18+ protective!ex-boyfriend chris x fem!reader. fighting, touches on themes of unwanted attention, mentions of alcohol, explicit language. reader discretion is advised. p.s inspired by the unreleased olivia rodrigo song 'prison for life'.
the house is filled with familiar faces and strangers. a small gathering turned into a full blown house party from the moment the word got out. where the sturniolo triplets are, a flock follows. you sigh, pushing and shoving your way through the unwanted crowd.
all you want is to make it into the kitchen, miraculously being the only place no one wants to linger. the last person you need to see right now is your ex lover. chris is standing ahead of you, leaning on the kitchen counter, alone in the room. you shut the doors behind you, needing to escape. even if it means with him.
“if you wanted to get me alone, you could have just asked." he speaks smug, before taking a sip from his red solo cup.
“i'm not in the mood,” you dismiss. you open the fridge, eyes scanning the shelves but nothing calling your name.
you know you're not actually looking for anything, you just don't want to look at him. the entire night has you shaking with anger. from the mess in your home, the lack of care everyone is taking, the noise complaint you know you'll be getting later, and worst of all, that one guy who won't leave you alone.
you've never seen him before tonight, you don't even know his name, but all he's done is make you uncomfortable. try to dance with you, try to give you drinks. he brushes your waist every time he walks past.
all of your friends have been encouraging you to go for it, to get over chris. and honestly, you consider it for a moment. just to finally move on, but you can't bring yourself to. at least not with some random creep.
the break up is still raw. he tells everyone it was 'mutual' but it was a part on your request. he'd never throw you under the bus like that. he knows why you made your decision, he's never questioned it.
chris feels like it's unrequited love. although, you haven't lost any love for him, no matter how much you try to push him away. he has every right to despise you, but he doesn't.
every time you close a chapter with him, you find yourself in a sequel. it's like you're re-reading different stories, but the ending stays the same. your heart wants him, your brain wants to hate him.
"what's wrong?" he asks, sensing you're genuine in your frustration.
"nothing." you refuse to let him know what's happing in your world, let alone your mind. you don't need to let in him anymore, even though you want to let it out. he's the one person who could just sit and listen to you for hours on end.
"alright, just askin" his words trail off into a hush. he switches the tone, not wanting the conversation to stop.
“your friends are nice” he speaks in a sickeningly sweet tone, because if anyone knows how to kick you while you're down, it's him.
"you would think that" you scoff, implying that you've seen them throw themselves at him all night. him pouring them drinks, smiling and frothing over the attention he's receiving.
"the fuck is that supposed to mean?" his temperamental side seeps out, and you grow only more irritated.
"chris, can you get out please?" you huff, hands crossing over your chest. an unintentional way to seperate yourself from him, a metaphorical wall being put up.
"such a party pooper. you really gotta let loose, relax a bit." his words come out a lot more nasty that you hope he meant them, and it makes your face hot.
you give him the benefit of the doubt and think he's speaking with resilience, at the fact you keep shutting him down.
"i wonder why we ever broke up." you reply sarcastically, a fake smile on your face. he rolls his eyes, finishing off his drink and letting out an audible "ah," like a child finishing a juice box.
"i haven't seen you all night, y/n" his voice softens, and it becomes clear he's speaking for the sake of talking to you. he always wants to talk to you.
looking at the counter quickly to place his cup down, he looks back at you, tilting his head to the side slightly. he's not being horrible to you, he never has been. he's still in your life whether you like it or not, despite your hostility.
"sorry. i'm just tired." you lie. he knows it.
"your poker face isn't very good. i learnt that the hard way," he bounces his eyebrows, biting the tip of his tongue, eyes a bit wider as he stares at the ground and you can tell he's having a flashback.
you chuckle at the reference. the one time he caught you faking an orgasm didn't end very well, and he's been able to catch you out ever since. he's never been afraid to pull you up on your own fibs.
"sorry, again." you hug your body tighter, avoiding his eyes. he pushes himself off the counter with a stretch like hum and walks over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.
"stop apologizing, you sound like matt," he rolls his eyes lightheartedly, and you let out a small laugh. that's always his intention, to make you smile.
"c'mon princess, let's get you a drink. seems like you need it." he nods toward to the door, rubbing your shoulder enthusiastically.
you let him try to fix your mood, because god knows you do actually need to stop stressing. you can't control what happens, just how you react. that's what chris always used to say when you were together.
feeling safe in his embrace, he security guard style moves you through the party. he hollers "excuse me!" and "coming through!" and everyone just listens, parting like the red sea. he's not the biggest guy in the room, but he sure is the most assertive. especially with you under his arm.
when you finally get to the drinks table, he makes you a vodka lemonade, saving the rest of the can for himself to finish off. it's not the most thrilling drink, but enough to keep you settled. ease the tension a bit. plus, it tastes good. no harm, no foul. as chris is mixing the liquids into cups, you feel an unwanted hand snake up around your hip.
"there you are. are you hiding from me?" your stomach drops at the voice of the mystery man towering over you, and you look ahead to watch chris's eyes snap up instantly.
chris lowers the cups, holding his eyes on the man behind you. you watch as he kinks his neck and his jaw tenses, taking a step closer. you shake your head at chris, holding a hand up subtly to tell him not to come any closer.
turning around, you stare up at the man. his breath reeks of liquor, and his shirt is drenched is sweat. it makes you sour your face and tense your entire body.
"i don't know what you want from me, but it's not gonna happen. i think you should leave." you speak sternly, trying not to let your voice shake with pure nerves. not even liquid confidence could help you right now.
"the party's just getting started," the man smiles, stumbling toward you in what you think is an attempt at a hug, but you begin pushing his body away from yours with a shove.
"dude, she doesn't want you. walk away." you hear chris's direct voice over your shoulder.
the last thing you want is negative attention on chris in a room full of people who would spread the news like wildfire. you never want that for him.
"it's okay, i got this." you dismiss chris in the nicest possible way, but you're being serious.
"come on, we'll have fun," the man hiccups through his words, mumbling them and tripping over toward you again.
"get the fuck away from her." chris's breath hits the back of your neck as he moves even closer to you.
"christopher, i'm serious. stop." you speak through grit teeth, so people can't read your lips, as he lingers next to you.
you try to be as inconspicuous as you can in your rejection to his advances, but he won't give up. the man appears more annoyed, and he grabs your wrist with a tight grip.
"let go of me." you grab the mans hand, trying to pry his grip without making it obvious.
you’re shaking at the thought of attention drawing. not for you, but for chris. eyes are already on you, being his ex. it's not what he ever wanted for you either. if he could make it all disappear, he would. it becomes more difficult when chris notices, and this time, has no intention of backing down.
"i'm not gonna repeat myself, back the fuck up." chris walks around your body, face to face with the guy who has a hold on you now.
"please, chris." you beg, voice quivering.
you know his temper can change in the blink of an eye. him and matt both have that in common.
"she doesn't need your help, pretty boy." the man splatters his words, a malicious smile on his face as he leans toward chris, almost nose to nose.
chris smiles criminally, flashing his teeth.
"you're right," chris puts his hands up in defence, a downward smile on his face as he chuckles darkly, taking a big step backward.
there's a feeling of relief, and intense fear as he actually does start to back away. but you know chris. unfortunately, it's unavoidable.
you try to catch his eyes, and speak through a begging stare without using words. he looks at you with sadness, and you mime the words, 'please don't'.
the moment the man tugs your wrist as if to leave with him, making you wince with the grip he holds. you regret your counteraction instantly, because chris reacts viscerally.
he flares his nostrils and squeezes his nails into his palm, balling up his hands by his hip. his knuckles are turning white.
before you can get pulled away, chris lunges forward with a tight fist, throwing a strong, perfectly aligned punch to the mans cheekbone. it throws the man to the ground in the blink of an eye, relieving the pressure on your skin. you stumble backwards, out of the line of fire.
chris steps heavily forward, shoving a foot into his ribcage before straddling his legs, completely overpowering him. the man projects forward to swing and hit chris's mouth. chris doesn't even flinch, like it was painless. you watch chris raise his arm up again to pummel down onto the now defenceless stranger.
the surrounding crowd gasps and yells, clearing the space that chris has created with his actions. iphone cameras flash, making you feel sick. the whispering and gossip you can already hear pounding in your head is overwhelming.
you feel so futile. chris is too in his own world to even realise the repercussions. you're not saying the guy didn't deserve it, you have no care in the world for him. you care about the aftermath.
in a fantasy world, a daydream, a fairytale even, this is attractive. a knight in shining armour, fighting for his lady. a world where there are no consequences, or social media, or fear. a reality chris has suddenly forgotten about.
he looks natural doing it, too. the veins in his arms so prominent, his tight mouth and huffed breaths as he gives it everything he's got.
you're frozen in shock, watching chris pelt another punch into the man, and you want to pull him off, you know you need to, but all your body can do is watch. watch the two men roughhousing and exchanging blows, chris taking every hit with pride.
you're numb to the feeling, screaming in your head.
appearing out of thin air, nick and matt are in your line of vision, hiding the chaos ahead of you. his brothers move into action before anyone else needs to.
they've obviously been summoned, but there's a part of you that believes they could just sense it. like they telepathically knew chris was getting himself into trouble by the lack of surprise they express.
nick grabs chris by the collar of his shirt, pulling him off. matt grabs his wrists, to stop him from using his fists. the fight comes undone, finally, but chris is disoriented. he spits onto the man as he's being escorted into the kitchen by his brothers.
your eyes burn with tears that refuse to fall, and matt sweeps your hand up, guiding you with them in a hurried manner. matt is trying to snap you back to reality, but it's just white noise.
chris hits his palm aggressively with frustration against the door frame of the kitchen as you all walk through, and you take a deep breath to compose yourself. your eyes are still welling as you choke back a sniffle, and you're not sure if it's shock, hurt, or anger anymore.
you're in a trance as you walk over to the freezer. your body is in autopilot, moving without you even knowing. you grab a frozen bag of vegetables out of the tray.
"so fucking stupid," you say nastily under your breath, slamming the door shut.
walking over to chris who's sat up on the ledge of the sink. you throw the packet at his chest, and he grabs it, questioning you for a second before matt walks over and shows him to place it on his bruised and red raw knuckles.
the room is filled with tension.
matt is biting his nails, you're leaning against the closed door, and nick finds himself squatting on the floor.
"what the actual fuck was that?" nick is too stunned to even yell, he just speaks aloud.
"i asked you not to, chris. i could have handled it myself." you shake your head, vision blurry as you stare vacantly ahead. you want to lash out at him, but for some reason you can't.
"yeah, it really looked like you had it under control." he crushes the frozen packet harshly against his hand.
"we'll leave you two alone." matt cuts through awkwardly, shooting nick a warning glare.
matt knows it's not his place to go off at chris right now. he'll do that later.
"but-" nick begins, and matt snaps toward the door. you hear nick sigh, knowing he would love nothing more than to stay and listen to you tear into chris. alas, they both leave promptly, matt flashing you a sympathetic smile on the way out.
you can hear from the other side of the door, both nick and matt are hustling trying to kick everyone out. it’s a weight lifted off your shoulders. the literal mess being left behind is the least of your worries now.
you're alone with chris in the kitchen again, the second time not being anymore pleasant than the first. you blame yourself fully for dropping your guard, even if for a second.
“i begged you not to, chris.” you repeat with a stern tone, laced with betrayal and genuine hurt.
he’s silent for a moment, staring at you from across the room with no emotion on his face. you know he feels terrible, he doesn’t have to show it. or tell you.
“did you think i was just gonna stand and watch?” he rebuttals.
“i would have preferred that, honestly.” you don’t understand how he can’t grasp the intensity of the situation.
"did you want him? go back out there then." he's bitter, pointing at the door. you roll your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief.
"chris," you start. he keeps talking.
“because i’m sure he’s still laying on the floor. go ahead. he might have a hard time talking now, though.” chris shrugs, speaking in a provoking manner.
“you’ll be lucky if he doesn’t press charges." you apprise.
“he should feel lucky i didn’t do worse.” he takes another step toward you, presumptuous in the way he carries himself.
"you've done a lot of stupid shit, chris. but that," you raise your hand as you speak, laughing in shock.
"that was unbelievable." you pinch the bridge of your nose, taking yet another deep breath.
"you know what's unbelievable is how you haven't even thanked me once" he ignores your words and bites back with irritation, face growing more twisted with upset.
"thank you?" you repeat, jaw dropping. you step toward him this time. you feel dejected trying to get him to understand.
"thank you for what? for causing a scene? for putting yourself in danger?" you step forward again, feeling like you could drive your heels into the ground beneath you.
"you're acting insane" he brings his hands to his head, tugging at his own hair with despair. his words sting, despite the back and forth arguing.
"you're the one that lashed out on that guy with no consideration for anyone else around you. that's insane" you speak with physical gestures unconsciously.
you're trying to reason with him, but with the state he's in, it's like trying to put a brain in a statue. you examine him, trying to search for his eyes but his body won't keep still, twisting and moving around.
"fuck, okay, i get it! i get it, y/n. you're not happy with me. you never fucking are apparently," his words trail off and he waves you away, turning his back to you. he sounds desperate for it to end.
you want to scream at him at the top of your lungs, and quite frankly, you could. your face burns and steam is about to shoot out of your ears.
"you don't need to protect me anymore, chris."
"i saved your ass out there." he speaks with his hand, four fingers direct to your chest. his words are like salt being rubbed into an open wound.
"saved me? that's a fucking stretch. your brothers saved your ass, because you don't think before you fucking act!"
"this is about YOU, y/n! what i did for you!" he slaps the back of right hand into the palm of his left.
"i'm not some damsel in distress that you need to sweep up and put in a tower, chris"
"yeah well at least in a tower you can't attract trouble." he speaks as if it's your fault, and of all the things he's just spit out, that's by far the worst. the most menacing and cut to the bone tone he's used.
"that was low, even for you." you huff, emotions at an all time high.
your breathing feels tight, but instead of reacting, you force yourself to seperate your emotions from the reality of the situation. you're both feeling very intensely, and expressing it the same way.
in hindsight, you could have redirected some of your emotions, but you also wish chris would take back some things he's said. there's no excuses.
chris re-collects himself and turns toward you again. he shrugs his shoulders, like he has nothing left to say. no fight left.
the closer chris is standing the more prominent his face is, and more specifically, his busted open lip.
you gasp in a mix of being upset, and shock. it feels like a piece of your heart is breaking off, seeing his delicate, pale skin so sore.
"your lip, chris." you exhale, stepping toward him.
he flinches when your hand raises to touch his face, and you know now that you've acknowledged it, it's hurting him. neither of you paid any attention to it amongst the turmoil.
"come here." you sigh, pulling his arm, bringing him over to where the paper towels are, in the corner of the sink.
tearing a white square into your hands, you rinse it under cold water lightly before squeezing the saturation out, leaving a damp cloth in your hand.
turning into chris's body, he looks down at you. he's still at last, and looks like he has no thoughts behind his now seemingly innocent eyes.
you cup his cheek gently, to turn his face downward. you bring the towel up to his lip, wiping his stained chin and mouth. he lets you, and doesn't even wince. he visibly gives into your touch. he's content.
"i need you to promise me you'll never do something like that again." you pull back, folding over a clean side and then wiping his lip softly, trying not to cause him pain.
"i can't promise that." he speaks in a whisper, as if he doesn't want you to hear his word.
with his lip no longer being red, you toss the damp and crumbling paper into sink, making it a problem for another time.
"why?" you look into his eyes, wiping your hands on your shirt.
his blue eyes are big but blameless, pupils dilated. holding his stare as your arm lowers.
"because if anyone lays a hand on you again, i'm going to prison for life." the piece of your heart that broke off earlier reattaches at his words alone.
chris's much shorter hair is spikey around his ears, and wet at the ends, turning dark brown from his sweat. you caress his messy curls, tucking it over the curves of his ears and taming the wispy strands. you hold his head in your hands, tiling him up and your mouths are inches apart.
"how hard did he hit your head?" you ask against his lips. he chuckles, genuinely.
he's an idiot, undeniably. but the gut wrenching, lawless love he has for you makes him that way. his low, smooth laughter, makes your heart skip a beat.
"i mean it, y/n."
"but i know, i know it was stupid." he admits.
"yeah, it was." you agree, shaking his head around slightly.
he grabs your hands with his own, engulfing them and holding them in his palms. he squeezes your hands, bringing them to his lips and kissing your knuckles.
"i'm sorry." he speaks on your skin.
"like really fucking sorry." he strains his head back with remorse, making his adam's apple more prominent, and he swallows hard. like he's swallowing his guilt.
"i said some nasty things. i wish i could take them back, y/n. i really do."
"i know, chris."
"no, you don't. i'll apologise to you everyday for the rest of my life if i have to. i've been horrible tonight."
"chris, enough," you hush him, the calmness in your tone making him understand you hear him. loud and clear. you need some time to forgive, but you absorb his words.
"i don't know how you didn't smack me in the mouth." he jokes, and you giggle through your breath.
"there's still time," you joke back. and he knows it by your tone.
"i could never bring myself to do that. as much as you deserve it." your banter eases the pressure, and you feel chris squeeze your hands in his again.
you rub your thumbs over his knuckles, looking at the little purple marks forming. he notices your face drop with stress, and he slips his hands away, moving to your hips instead.
"hey, i'm fine. i don't care what happens to me, i just need you to be okay."
"i am okay," you reply. he drops his face with a look that expresses he doesn’t believe you. you give a light eyeroll, and small smile.
"i mean it, i swear.” you raise your pinkie finger to him, to keep your promise. knowing it’s the only way he’ll actually believe you.
chris smiles, weak with his bruised lip, and wraps up your pinkie with his own, wriggling your hands around.
"i'm always gonna want to protect you." he pulls you toward his body. he's so warm, and radiates a magnetic energy that makes you want to collapse into his arms.
you know you don't need him to, but deep down, you would like his protection. his unconditional love. selflessness.
"i'll be sure to send you love letters in jail" you grin up at him, and laughs from the chest.
his voice is like a scratched record, fatigue taking over his body. you swallow hard, all of your senses coming back. he feels so real standing in front of you all of a sudden, like it's not just a dream you're about to wake up from.
"stay the night." you speak mindlessly.
chris brushes your hair from your face, cupping the back of your neck lightly to pull your forehead to his lips, kissing just above your eyebrows gently. he rests his chin on the crown of your head, pulling you tight to his chest in an embrace.
"i'll stay forever if you ask me to."
this is the feeling he fights for. requited love.
#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo angst#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo fic#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo blurb#sturniolo triplets#damsel in distress
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⚣ Rag Doll 🤬
⚣🤬 A/N → My first Jason Todd fic I posted on my other account! This full NSFW will be posted here since taking it out would lead to half the story being taken out.
WARNINGS: NSFW. Breaking&Entering. Consensual-Non-Consensual. Bondage. Anal Sex. Rough Fucking. Mentions of Throat-Fucking. Domination. Breathplay (Choking). etc.
⚣🤬 Summary → Jason hasn't gotten it through his head that you and he were broken up. But, for the vigilante, you haven't gotten it through your head that you belong to him. He plans on reminding you of that little fact. Sorry for your window.
⚣🤬 Words → 2.1k
REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛
⚣ ENJOY 🤬
“I’m not arguing about this with you again, Jason!” You shouted into your phone while pacing back and forth in your living room.
It was damn near midnight and you were just about to get in the shower after a hard day. Your job was stressing you out, your neighbors were getting on your nerves, and your ex-boyfriend, Jason Todd, hadn’t gotten it through his thick head about the ‘ex’ part.
“I don’t want you fucking working with him, Y/N!” Jason shouted back through your earphones. You had to switch the call to them after you got tired of holding the phone against your ear for over half an hour.
Your job put together a new team for an important project after your company merged under Wayne Enterprises. You were selected to lead this team, along with one of your co-workers who you had been aware was interested in you since you started working at the company.
Unfortunately, your ex was the jealous and possessive type of guy who upon finding out this information demanded you quit. It turned into a major argument that lasted for weeks until you eventually called it off with him after two years. Obviously, he wasn’t happy about that and refused to accept it.
You kicked him out of your shared apartment, changing the locks, but it didn’t stop him from coming back, acting like you guys were on a break instead of actually broken up.
“I don’t give two flying shits, Jason! We broke up. You don’t get to tell me what to do with my life.” You repeated, for probably the 14th time within the last 30 minutes.
“Don’t raise your fucking voice at me, Y/N!” He growled through the phone.
“Don’t fucking talk to me like I’m your child, asshole!”
You heard him go quiet for a minute, though you could hear how hard his breathing was through the line indicating he was reaching his limit but so were you. Many people wondered how you two managed to stay together as long as you did since you both were hotheads.
“I’d remind you, Y/N, to watch who you’re talking to like that. Don’t think for one second I won’t-”
“You won’t what, fucker?” You cut him off, your patience non-existent at this point.
“Baby boy, please just-”
“No, Jason! I told you I am through with your controlling ass behavior. We’re over. Stop calling me, stop texting me, and stop having your family watch me. You have no say at all in my life anymore. If I want to go fuck Levi, Adrian, Steve, and the whole motherfucking HR team, I will do so. And there is not one thing you can do to stop me. So with that, goodnight, Jason.” You said, clicking the button on your earphones to hang up the call.
A deep sigh escaped your lips before you took your earphones out and placed them in their case. You walked to your bedroom and tossed the device onto the bed, missing the silhouette of a tall, bulky body standing on the building across from your apartment window.
You had just finished brushing your teeth and were about to wash your face when the sound of glass shattering from your bedroom alerted you.
“What the fuck?” You muttered to yourself before opening your bathroom door, looking to see your bedroom window in pieces. But that wasn’t what shocked you the most. What had you staggered and growing furious was the person you saw standing in the middle of the mess, dressed in his vigilante attire, just without the helmet.
“Jason Peter Todd, what the actual fuck is wrong with you?!” You seethed, a tight knot forming at the back of your head from your anger toward the beefy vigilante.
He held a smug grin, slowly walking toward you while grabbing something off his belt, “You hung up on me baby boy, and we weren’t finished talking yet.”
There was a dark tone to his words as he backed you into the corner of your room with him easily dwarfing you in size. The glint of the metal handcuffs in his hand shined in your eye as you let out a gulp.
Your wrists ached and were the color of an apple as they were repeatedly dragged and rubbed against the handcuffs that had you bound to the headboard on your bed. Tears pooled in your eyelids and ran down your cheeks as you felt Jason thrusting roughly into you with his hand squeezing your dick, denying you another orgasm for the 4th time.
He’d been at it for over an hour, fucking you in every position he could think of all over your no-longer shared bedroom.
There was a growing soreness in your hole from your ex’s rough treatment, only slowing down every now and then to delay his own orgasm. He only would allow himself to cum when you did first. Such a gentleman.
Thing was, he would keep denying your orgasm until you submitted to him and agreed to take him back. Now, he chooses to accept your break-up! Great fucking timing…
His body hovered over yours as forced your legs wider with one hand while using the other to hold you around your neck. It was something from his possessive nature that just liked the feeling of control he got when he could squeeze and take your breath away at a moment’s notice.
“A-Ah! Cl-Close a-a-again.” You whined as you felt your body jutting up and down with the shaking bed frame.
The sound of fists pounding from the other side of the wall, your neighbors signaling their annoyance and request for you to quiet down, but Jason ignored them. Before, he would always stop and yell out an apology. He was considerate like that, but tonight, he couldn’t give one fuck if the entire building came knocking on your door.
You were his entire focus. All he cared about was you and making you feel every bit of pleasurable pain while at his mercy.
“Uh uh baby boy,” He grunted in your ear, squeezing down on the base of your dick again, preventing you yet again from reaching your blissful end. You felt more than heard the cry of frustration you let out, your head turning back as he licked and bit at your earbud.
Your body was littered with bite marks and hickeys, another thing from your ex’s possessive attitude toward you. The red marks would remind everyone else who you belonged to while the soreness from your hole would remind you. Jason’s size alone could have you squirming all alone without his rough pace.
Looking over his shoulder in the distance, you could see the mirror facing your bed, and Jason’s large frame fucking into you like an animal from behind. Even with his shirt still on, you could see how sweaty he was which did nothing but increase the arousal and need for release in your stomach.
Jason knew just how much it drove you crazy seeing his muscles underneath the compression material even when you guys were just out on a regular outing, let alone during sex. It was very obvious he did that on purpose just to make it even harder for you to resist him. He even kept his mask on too, probably remembering that one time you said you liked the mysterious vibe it gave him.
All you wanted at that moment was to touch him, to run your hands up and down his back and over his arms, or through his dark hair to grip and hold on as he pile-drived into you mercilessly. But, as cruel as fate was (fate being named Jason), your restraints would not give way no matter how hard you pulled against them.
He let out an amusing chuckle at your struggling before tightening his grip around your neck, restricting your airways.
“Ja-Jason, please…” You gasped before he increased the pressure even more, stealing your breath away.
A soundless yelp escaped your lips when he gave a particularly hard thrust against your spot while rubbing his thumb over your red, weeping head, smearing your pre-cum all over before he slowed down to a dragging pace so he could speak into your ear.
“You know what to say, Y/N. I let you have this little charade to give you time to cool off like the caring boyfriend I am, but obviously, you needed a reminder of who’s in charge here. So tell me what I want to hear, baby boy, and you can have your reward.” He gruffly stated before his movements suddenly paused inside you and he released the pressure on your throat.
“N-No! Please- a-ah, fuck ... ! Please, Jason, I-I need…” You cried the second you felt him stop and the air came rushing back into your pipes.
Jason was buried all the way inside you, throbbing hard against your walls. You could tell he was close and was using this as an opportunity to calm himself down so he could keep fucking you if you didn’t give in.
“Those aren’t the fucking words I want to hear, Y/N.” He scolded in your ear with a harsh slap to the side of your butt causing you to scream out in pain before he tightened his hold around your neck again.
He brought his head up from between your neck, his hard stare looking you down as you tried to hold back the tears still building in your eyes. “Fuck, you’re so hot like this and you feel so good around my cock. You’re tight and wet and all for me. Stop torturing us both like this, baby boy. Just say it.” He dictated before leaning down to kiss your lips which were still swollen from when he face-fucked you for 10 minutes.
You suddenly felt him give you a pounding thrust, squeezing around your dick at the same time causing you to scream into his mouth.
“Come on baby, just say it for me. Who do you belong to?” He muttered against your lips, punctuating every word with another thrust and squeeze, forcing more tears from your eyes as your body shuddered from the pain and stimulation.
He laid soft kisses around your cheeks, treating your face like a flower but your body like a rag doll.
“N-nh, ah ... f-fuck ... y-you you…” You breathed, barely able to form any coherent words from his increasing grip on your neck.
“You what, baby?” He prodded, watching as your eyes fluttered close from the pleasure of his increasing thrusts, “Ah ah, open up those eyes, baby boy. You need to look at me when you say it.” He ordered, thrusting against your prostate again forcing you to open your eyes with another whine.
“I-I b-belong… oh fuck… t-to … ah you…” You muttered, hearing his growl in response.
“Say it again.” He ordered, punching against your spot again while squeezing your dick.
“I belong to you.”
“Louder!”
“I belong to you!”
“I said louder!” Your bodies rocked together with the shaking frame hearing items hit the floor from the wall where your headboard was banging against as the pounding from the other side started up again.
“I BELONG TO YOU!” You shouted at the top of your lungs.
You could hear the smirk in his voice as he smashed the head of his dick against your prostate before he leaned down into your ear, releasing your dick with an order, “Cum.”
Your body felt like it was encased in white-hot fire release overcame you, screaming out “O-OHH, FUCK ... !”
You twitched underneath him as your dick exploded with your orgasm, painting your stomach and his shirt with your white sticky cum while your legs were shaking from the stimulation as you came down from your high.
Jason feverishly increased his pace, fucking into you with erratic movements before he let out a loud groan, pushing as far as he could while shooting his load inside you. It caused an aftershock to turn through you, sending more spurts of your own cum out your weeping dick as he tensed and tried to hold himself still while breeding you.
He moved slowly back and forth, both your bodies still lightly shuddering in pleasure. He brought his face back over yours, pressing your sweaty foreheads together.
“You’re quitting tomorrow.” He stated, leaving no room for argument.
“Fuck you.” You replied, slowly catching your breath.
“Watch it,” He retorted with a small hard thrust while flexing his still-hard dick eliciting a small cry from you.
He chuckled at you pressing his lips against yours again before muttering out against them, "You're mine, and if I have to remind you of that again, I will."
☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️
☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️
#solar-wing ☀️#☀️🪽.fanfic#☀️🪽.dcposts#☀️🪽.explicit#☀️🪽.smut#☀️🪽.txt#gay#dc#dcu#dcau#dc universe#dc comics#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc x male reader#x reader#x male reader#jason todd#jason todd imagine#jason todd x reader#jason todd x male reader#jason todd x m!reader#red hood#red hood imagine#red hood x reader#red hood x male reader#red hood x m!reader
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Hi baby!! Mwaaah! I have an emergency request if it’s okay? Can you have either Bakugou or Touya (maybe him as just Touya or maybe Dabi? You can decide) where the reader is having such bad flashbacks of their abusive relationship before them that they can’t get out of bed and every little thing set them off in a way they starts to get worse with them flashbacks?
Touya & Bakugo with gn!Reader who deals with flashbacks of past relationship
A/N: I hope you'll enjoy these two short stories 💋
EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST - PART 2
Touya
Touya sat by the edge of the bed, his pale fingers tracing absentminded patterns on the sheets. His partner, Y/N, lay beside him, their body curled into a tight ball under the covers.
It had been a rough night. The nightmares that haunted them were growing worse, and Touya could do little more than hold them as they trembled and cried in their sleep.
Now, as they lay still, Touya watched over them with a heavy heart. ”Y/N," he murmured softly, brushing a strand of hair away from their face. "It's morning. You should try to get up."
Their eyes fluttered open, but the vacant, haunted look in them made it clear they were still trapped in the grip of their past.
Touya’s heart clenched at the sight. He had seen that look before – in his own reflection, back when his life was consumed by pure pain and hatred.
"I can't," they whispered, their voice barely audible. "Every time I close my eyes, I see him. I feel his hands on me... I can't escape it. I can’t believe I spent so much time in such an abusive relationship… I should have tried to escape but I felt weak."
Touya’s jaw tightened. He understood the feeling all too well, the relentless grip of trauma that refused to let go. Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to their forehead. "You're not there anymore, Y/N. You're here, with me. And I won’t let anyone hurt you again."
They shook their head, tears welling up in their eyes. "It's not that simple. Everything reminds me of him. The sound of the door, the creak of the floorboards... even the way the light filters in reminds me of being trapped in his flat."
Touya’s eyes darkened with anger – not at them, but at the monster who had done this to them. "We’ll make new memories to replace the old ones. If you still feel trapped, maybe you should consider moving to another town, to leave the past behind?”
They looked up at him, hope flickering briefly in their eyes before being extinguished by fear. "What if it doesn’t work? What if I’m broken forever? And I distinctly remember you saying that “the past never dies”, Touya.”
Touya's breath caught at the mention of his own words, thrown back at him like a painful echo. He closed his eyes for a moment, steeling himself against the rush of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. When he opened them again, his gaze was steady, intense. "I did say that," he admitted, his voice a low, steady rumble. "The past never dies. It’s a part of us, a shadow that follows wherever we go. But that doesn’t mean it defines us." He leaned closer, his forehead pressing gently against theirs. "I know you feel broken. Hell, I’ve felt that way for years. But look at me, Y/N. I'm still here. Still fighting. Because even though the past never dies, it doesn’t mean it wins. We get to decide who we become, every single day."
His fingers traced gentle patterns on their arm, a calming, grounding touch. "I’m not saying it’s going to be easy. It’s not. There will be days when it feels like the shadows are winning. But you’re not alone in this. We’ll face those shadows together." He paused, searching their eyes for any sign of understanding. "You’ve already survived so much, babe. You’re stronger than you think. And if the past tries to drag you down, I’ll be here to pull you back up. Every single fucking time."
Touya cupped their face in his hands, his touch gentle despite the callouses. "You’re not broken, Y/N. You’re healing. And healing takes time. Allow yourself to heal.”
They stayed like that for a while, the silence between them filled with unspoken words of comfort and solidarity. Slowly, they began to uncurl, their breathing evening out as they leaned into Touya’s embrace. "Okay," they whispered finally. "I trust you. Thank you for being here for me, Touya.”
Touya smiled, a rare, genuine smile that was reserved only for them. "Always."
Bakugou
Katsuki Bakugou was not a man known for his patience. His explosive temper and brash demeanor were infamous, but when it came to Y/N, he was willing to wait. Wait for them to feel safe, to heal, to trust.
Today, however, his patience was being tested to its limits.
He stood at the door of their bedroom, hands clenched into fists at his sides. Y/N lay in bed, their body trembling under the blankets. It had been a bad night, and the morning wasn't proving to be any better.
"Y/N," Bakugou called softly, trying to keep his voice gentle despite his frustration. "You need to get up. You haven't eaten anything for nearly two days."
They didn't respond, their eyes fixed on a spot on the wall as if it held the answers to their torment.
Bakugou took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. Losing his temper wouldn't help them at all.
He walked over to the bed, sitting down beside them. "Hey," he said more softly, reaching out to touch their shoulder. "Talk to me."
They flinched at his touch, a reaction that sent a pang of hurt through Bakugou’s chest. He pulled his hand back, clenching it into a fist to keep from lashing out. Not at them, of course, never at them – but at the memory of the person who had hurt them.
"It’s him," they whispered, their voice shaking, "I can’t get him out of my head. Every sound, every shadow… it’s like he’s still here, watching me."
Bakugou’s eyes flashed with anger, his mind filling with violent thoughts about the man who had done this to the person he loved the most. But he knew that wouldn’t help right now. What they needed was reassurance, not rage.
"He’s not here," Bakugou said firmly. "He’ll never hurt you again. I swear on my life, Y/N. You’re safe with me."
They turned their head to look at him, tears streaming down their face. "But I don’t feel safe! Can’t you understand that?! Everything reminds me of him. The way the door creaks, the shadows on the wall... I can’t escape it! I know I’m no longer in his hands, but goddammit, I feel like he still owns a part of my soul!”
Bakugou’s heart ached at their words. He wished he could take away their pain, fight off their demons like he did with villains. But this was a battle that couldn’t be won with fists and explosions. He took a deep breath. "Then we’ll change it," he said finally, determination in his voice. "We’ll get rid of the shadows, do whatever it takes to make you feel safe. We’ll make this place your little haven, does it sound okay?”
They looked at him with a mixture of hope and doubt. "What if it doesn’t work? What if I’m always scared?"
Bakugou leaned in, pressing his forehead against theirs while rubbing their shoulders. "Then I’ll be here, every step of the way. I won’t let you face this alone. We’ll fight it together.”
They took a shaky breath, their body slowly relaxing against his. "Okay," they whispered. "Together."
Bakugou nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Together."
#emergency request#dabi fluff#dabi x reader fluff#dabi x y/n#dabi x reader#touya todoroki#dabi my hero academia#mha fluff#bnha fluff#dabi#touya todoroki x reader#touya todoroki fluff#bakugou x reader#bakugou x you#katsuki x reader#katsuki x y/n#bakugou x y/n#katsuki bakugo fic#katsuki bakugo x y/n#bakugou fluff
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Do you think Eddie lets his girlfriend hold his dick while he pees? 🥺👉🏼👈🏼
👀 I'm only like 100% sure he does?? I wanted this to be shorter but um I got carried away?? So like 1.4k smut ahead, of the first time you ask Eddie to let you do this and a little bit of how it goes!! 18+ pls OBVI!!
"... oh yeah, mhm, I heard about that…" Eddie hummed along to his neighbors rant about whatever affair they spotted during their daily cigarette break by the window. He lied though, he hadn't heard about it before, and didn't care one bit, but it was the most polite way he could come up with in order to extract himself from the conversation as soon as he could - nod along and wait for an opportunity to mention he left something on the stove.
"... and he had no shame about it, that little rascal …" the neighbor went on. You weren't listening either, but when you squeezed Eddie's ring and pinky finger into your hand and he showed absolutely no signs of taking the hint, you knew it was time to take matters into your own hands.
Nodding along to the rest of the story, you leaned in to grab the groceries bag from Eddie's free hand, hoping the commotion would help speed up the conversation. And it did.
"Ah, you're probably busy" the neighbor said, hands clasped in front of his chest as he prepared to resume his walk, "I'll let you two do your thing, but if you want, I'd love to have you over for a coffee some time"
"Absolutely" Eddie bowed, a huge smile on his face, his enthusiasm most likely rooted in the chance to finally bolt inside. "Maybe during the weekend"
"Sure, of course, let me know. You know how retirement is…"
"Thank you for inviting us" you smiled too and then waved at the man as he said his goodbye and turned to leave.
Eddie barely managed to mumble a poor and hurried "Bye" before forcing the door open. "Fuck!" he cried, throwing his jacket on the floor, the keys on the counter and then rushed further into the trailer.
"Eddie, wait!" you dropped the bags and sprinted after him, barely managing to grab a handful of his shirt as he stepped inside the bathroom, "Eddie, I-"
"Just a second, sweetheart!" he cringed, peeling your hand off his shirt. He kissed your knuckles though and sent you an apologetic smile before disappearing behind the bathroom door.
With a deep frown and a disheartened pout, you stomped your way to where you had dropped the bags earlier, fished out one of the chocolate bars, and plopped down on the couch.
Despite furiously munching at it, you weren't even halfway done with the desert by the time Eddie walked out of the bathroom.
"Ah, fuck!" he stretched, walking over to you, "Sorry about that, I thought I was gonna piss myself for a second there. What did you wanna tell me, love?"
"Nothing" you spat and sank your teeth into the chocolate.
"Sweetheart?" his tone softened, "Is everything alright?"
"Yes"
"Can you look at me?"
"No"
He knew what this was - didn't know what it was about, but knew you well enough to be able to tell you got upset over something trivial. Whenever it was something serious, so were you, starting a conversation with him and being mature and reasonable about it. However, the less serious the matter was, the more dramatic you got. So he knew there was space to tease you. "Puppy, come on, look at me, my angel" Eddie parted your legs and kneeled between them on the floor. He grabbed your hips in his hands and leaned down to get himself in your field of view. "Sweetheart?"
"You don't love me anymore" you huffed and raised your chin. You faced the kitchen, still frowning, and refused to look at him.
"Why would you say that, baby?" Eddie pushed himself up to sit beside you. When you still refused to engage, he grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. "Tell me what made you upset, you know I make everything better."
"You slammed the door in my face" you exaggerated, knowing damn well he didn't even fully close the door. He always did though, and you were fully aware the only reason he didn't properly shut it was because you had been still standing there. But you were upset, and that was good enough of a reason to push his buttons.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to" he played along, "Forgive me, sweetheart, I'll make it up to you. But right now, please tell me what you wanted to say earlier"
"I don't want to anymore"
"Please? If you tell me, I promise I'll do absolutely anything you want"
You raised an eyebrow. "Anything?"
"Anything!" Eddie energetically shook his head. "I promise"
"Will you let me hold your dick while you pee?"
For a second, all he was able to do was blink. "Hold my what?" he did a double take.
"Your dick, Eddie. Please" you pouted, completely unbothered by the absolute shock on his face.
It took him a second to gather himself, "And then you'll tell me?"
"This is it. This is what I wanted to ask you but you ran and then locked yourself in the bathroom"
Realization hit him like a rock and as soon as the thought settled and the information got processed, he visibly relaxed. He swung one arm around your shoulders and leaned for a kiss. "I'm sorry, baby" he spoke against your lips, "Of course you can do that. I promise, I'll let you know next time I have to go"
"Really? You don't think it's weird?"
"No, it's definitely weird" he shook his head, "But when has that ever stopped us before?"
"Ok, thank you" you giggled, suddenly nervous enough to make you hide your face into his shoulder, but not nervous enough to remain there for long, as another idea popped up in your head.
Curiously, Eddie watched you stand and hurry to the kitchen, only to burst into laughter when you returned to him with a bottle of beer in your hand. "To speed up the process" you said.
-
"How long until you're done with that?" Eddie popped up in the reflection of your mirror, peeking over your shoulder at the makeup you just put on.
"I think I'm done?" you frowned and turned to face him, "Why?"
"We didn't take into consideration the fact that I drank today at lunch. I can't drive us to the movies, so we'd better get going if we want to make it there on time"
"Ok, right. Yeah, I'm done here anyway, let's go" You didn't pay too much attention, just walked past him and into the hallway, making a beeline for your shoes. "What?" you questioned when Eddie grabbed your boot from your hand and then dragged you back deeper into the trailer.
"Promised you'd help me piss"
"Oh!" you exclaimed, "Yes, yes, yes! Please, let me, let me!"
"Of course, princess," Eddie laughed, guiding you into the bathroom. He undid the belt himself and hooked his thumbs around the waistband of his jeans and then pulled them down his thighs, along with his underwear.
You looked at his cock and then up at him, "Do I just grab and aim?"
"Basically" Eddie chuckled and then wrapped an arm around your shoulders when he saw you hesitate. "Don't be nervous, you literally touched my dick thousands of times before"
"Yeah, but what if I miss?"
"I don't think you will, but if you do, I'll clean it up, don't worry"
"Ok…" you mumbled but still hesitated.
"Y/n, I don't wanna pressure you or anything. I don't know what's wrong with me right now, but there's a sliiiiiight possibility that I'm gonna get real hard, real soon if you keep staring at my dick with that look on your face, so-"
"Oh, no, yeah!! Sorry!" you giggled and went straight for it. As gently as you could, probably the most carefully you had ever been with his dick, you grabbed it into your hand, angled it however your brain figured appropriate and then looked at Eddie, "Is this ok?"
"Perfect, fuck. Ok" he hissed and then let himself go.
You didn't know what exactly you were expecting, but excitement took over your body when you saw the stream coming out of his tip, a huge dumb smile on your face as you refused to look away.
Nervous all of a sudden, Eddie raised your hand a little so the stream would hit the toilet bowl and not the water - the sound was making his cheeks burn, why was he like this? Why was he hot all of a sudden?
"Can I spell my name?"
"Technically yeah-" Eddie laughed in disbelief, "But next time? I'm almost done right now"
"Can you do it?"
"Sure"
"Can I watch?"
"You're insane" he shook his head, amused - and in awe, kissing your temple as the last droplets of piss left his tip. "But of course you can"
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie x reader#p1ss k1nk#????#i think???#is this even considered p1ss k1nk?? dunno#eddie munson
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I’m curious, when it comes to the dilf izuku cheating story just how did it happen? Did Izuku go out drinking and meet Ochako and things took off from there, or is something more darker taking place and Izuku didn’t actually cheat on his own free will? Also Bakugou being revealed as our ex was actually shocking! I’m also curious as to how that old relationship with reader went down considering he’s a ass who also cheated.
Hmmm... yall want the real details of what happened... okay... BTW, If you want to read how Izuku and Reader got together please read The Contract, which is on my AO3 and on my Tumblr. It's the entire story of how Katsuki cheated and how we got together with Izuku.
How Dilf Izuku Cheated
Warning: does not contain reader but mentions her, non-con/dubious consent, implied intoxicated state.
Izuku typed away on his laptop as he sat in his office. It was already late in the evening, far past sunset with the sky a dark blue and Izuku was exhausted. He leaned back against his chair, rubbing his eyes as he sighed. His body weighed heavier than a load of bricks. He had been so busy lately, especially with the Jigsaw trial having ended. The streets were safer but at what cost?
Izuku refusing to go home.
It felt suffocating. Watching you try and keep it all together as you tried to keep the boys afloat, walking past Shoyo's bedroom knowing there wasn't going to be a little boy there anymore.
Worst part were all the stupid fucking headlines.
PROHERO DEKU: LOSING HIS EDGE?
DEAD HERO'S SON- TOO SLOW FOR EVEN THE NUMBER ONE.
WHERE WAS DEKU?
It all made him sick to his stomach. It was terrible what they were saying, and it made Izuku force himself to try and be better. To work harder so that no little boy would ever go through what his son went through.
Izuku opened his eyes to look down at the gift on his table. Apparently it was sent by Katsuki. A large glass bottle of whiskey. At first Izuku thought it was some ultimate "fuck you" and he wouldn't even touch it. However with a pounding headache and him too scared to go home and face you and the kids. Maybe a glass of it wouldn't be too bad...
There was a buzz that took him out of his thoughts, a call coming from the downstairs desk of his agency, the night shift. "Mr Deku?"
He put a finger to the intercom. "Yes?
"Prohero Uravity is here to see you? Something about the Juggernaut case?"
Izuku sighed. He thought he had told Ochaco that they would talk about it some other time, but then again, he always came up with excuses to talk to any one of his friends these days. "Send her up." He stated before removing his finger and standing up to grab a glass from the refreshment counter he had at the side of the room.
He walked back to his chair and grabbed the bottle while he did so. He poured himself a cup before lifting it up to his lips and taking a long drink. He let the burn of the alcohol hit his throat before he let out a sigh. But... he couldn't shake that something felt off about the whiskey. Izuku took the bottle and moved to check what brand it was. Maybe it was just one he had never tasted.
There was a knock at his door, before a head of brunette hair had peaked through. A friendly smile cam with it. "Deku." She let out sweetly as she walked into his office. She was dressed in a pretty little black dress as she walked over to him. Every light in his office was off other than the one on his desk. "I was surprised to know that you were in still."
Izuku leaned back with a heavy sigh as he dragged a hand through his mess of curls. "Well, crime never sleeps." He gave a pathetic excuse back to her with a weak smile.
She walked over to stand in front of him with a small frown on her face. "I know you've had a rough couple of weeks recently."
Izuku let out a scoff as he took another sip of the whiskey, wanting it to take the edge off his day. "You don't know the half of it." He let out lowly.
Ochaco paused as her brown eyes that suddenly looked so warm, looked down at him. "You should rest, Deku." She spoke softly as she took slow steps over to him, moving around his desk to go stand beside him. She turned his chair so that he could face her. "You work too hard." She said with a slight pout, moving to sit on the edge of his desk. Her dress hiked up a bit, the skirt of her dress revealing the inside of her thighs and more leg to show. Izuku's grip tightened on his glass as he shook his head, trying to focus for five seconds. "Is Y/N not helping you to relax?
Izuku moved to rub his eyes. "Uh..." he took a moment to understand what she just said. "She's busy with the boys and everything. We both need a moment. I couldn't expect that from her." He answered honestly.
"But she's your wife, Deku. She should prioritize you." She tilted her head to the side. "I know it has been rough but you deserve to feel..." She leaned forward, placing a hand on his forearm.
Izuku's eyes moved from where her hand was touching his arm up to her. He then realised that he dress seemed rather... revealing. He could see right down her cleavage and
God did he just want to grab her breasts till the fat was spilling between his fi-
Izuku shook his head as he sat up. His eyebrows furrowed. What was wrong with him today? Having such thoughts about Ochaco, a woman that was not his wife. He only ever found you attractive once the both of you got married, why was he thinking about Ochaco? He put down his glass, realising that he maybe had one too much to drink.
"You..." He let out feeling rather confused with a slur to his words. "You came here for the Jugger... Juggernaut case?" He asked confused.
Ochaco nodded but she looked at him gravely concerned. "I did but... Deku are you alright?" She asked.
Izuku was definitely not alright. His head felt like he was on another planet. He couldn't think straight.
He needed his wife.
He needed you.
Where were you?
Why was he all alone?
He didn't like being alone. He needed help. You were help.
"Y/N." He let out lowly as he stood up from his chair on shaky legs. "I... I need..." He quickly caught himself with his hand on the desk as he tried to focus and he tried to think but he couldn't walk straight to save his life.
"Izuku!" Ochaco quickly came to his side. "Let me help you." She stated as she helped him get to the couch, allowing him to fall back onto his couch. She crouched down in front of him. "Are you alright?" She asked him.
Izuku looked at her, his breath heavy as he noticed her every curve, her every feature. Everything seemed almost all in his face. She gave him a weak smile. "You know... I could help you relax. You look like you need it." She stated as she slowly started to crawl into his lap.
Izuku felt like he couldn't speak but every touch that she was giving him made him feel like finally... finally his brain could just switch off. Her hands moved up, curving over the large thick problem that sat snug in his pants.
She let out a giggle. "Oh... how I missed this." She gripped him through his pants and a moan stumbled out of his lips. He couldn't seem to care for the most part. It felt so good to have her here and she cared so much. "It's been too long Izuku. And I'm sure you've missed a body that isn't rather... stretched out, like your wife's. Don't worry, I'll be nice and tight just for you." Her lips moved to his ear making him feel like he could just be lulled away by her touch.
Maybe... maybe five minutes with her wouldn't hurt.
So he tightened his hold on her hips and kissed her.
-Glitch1d
#izuku x reader#izuku x reader angst#izuku midoriya angst#dilf izuku x reader#dilf izuku midoriya#dilf deku#izuku midoriya x reader#mha x y/n#tw noncon#tw dubious consent
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RED HOOD | BATFAMILY (assorted canon)
────────────────────
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“Long Overdue” (Jason Todd & Batmom!Reader) and (background Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)
| Reader was with Bruce in the past but grew distant after Jason’s death. No one tells her when he comes back from the dead until Bruce is forced to bring her in on a raid when they’re overwhelmed. -Jason and Batmom!Reader reunion.
| SFW, canon typical action/violence, cursing?, crying?
| This is like half fanon half UTRH/Batman:Hush. I’m really just fucking around with canon rn. Also the pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source - Batman: Three Jokers comic)
| 2k+ words
| parts: one, spurt, two, three, four, five, six/six point five, seven.
Ma. God, no one called you that anymore. The way your eyes begin to prickle is a clear indication.
With you Dick wasn’t the type. Once he’d worked himself up to it he’d called you mom; slightly different from the few ways he referred to his bio mother, but something shared between the two of you all the same.
And Tim? Well he wasn’t your child plain and simple. Tim still had his parents for one, and for two he was intrinsically Bruce’s. By the time he’d figured his way into the Batcave you’d been gone, most of your shit moved out of the manor, and desperately waving divorce papers Bruce refused to acknowledge in the air. You didn’t have anything to do with his indoctrination outside of exactly one instance of him finding you to ask if you’d reconsider the separation. Some Batman needed a Robin and Bruce Wayne needed his wife type shit.
Either way Tim didn’t call you any rendition of mom because you weren’t his. The most you got was him addressing you by your maiden name and then eventually your first and you were content with that.
Then if he didn’t call you mom, the girls sure as hell didn’t either. Outside of Barbara the others never even became regular conversation partners. Cass was a rare sighting in your life and Stephanie and you’s relationship would never progress past the casual advocacy you tried giving her because she was another dead Robin to add to what’s now technically a list.
At the end of the day, out of all the people who considered you a mother, only Jason added that ‘a’ and you wanted to grip that name tight and hold it to you. Break your ribs open and force it into your chest cavity. The need to fulfill that ache cuts deep and you take a step forward.
Jason startles though, undoing all his own forward progress, and you falter. That’s right. Jason didn’t like for people to touch him. Definitely didn’t like hugs either. Not surprise ones at least. Before his death you’d gotten close enough he didn’t mind when you swooped in, but now?
“Can I-? Can I hug you?” You press trembling lips together for another horrible swallow. “Please…?”
Jason jerks, two hastily aborted movements at once, before his obstructed voice meets your ears.
“Fine.”
You practically fall on him before pulling him into you. Unfortunately he’s just as stiff as his voice and you have to take a second to figure out how to slot against him.
Jason fits in your arms differently than he used to - broader and taller by a mile - but after a few beats he relaxes into them just the same. The subtle addition of weight makes a sob bubble up your throat.
You rap your knuckles on the side of the helmet.
“Take this shit off.”
He hesitates and a sharp pang manages to worm its way into the already shitty cocktail of emotions you’re feeling. It hits your spine like lightning, forces you up and has you an arms length away in half an inhale.
Maybe before now you’d been going through too much all at once for the trepidation to hit, but it was hitting now. You’d never seen Hood without- well without the Hood. Only Jumbie raised from the dead the way Jason did, and while you’d take your son anyway you could get him you wouldn’t accept some Thing parading around in his skin.
Reading your burst of movement for what it is, Jason backtracks, rising arms dropping to his sides. “Maybe I shouldn’t…”
“Jason Peter-” you inhale deeply, catching yourself, and hold a hand up to stop him. You both ignore the obvious way it trembles. “-only… if…if you want to. I’m not trying to force anything.”
He’s slow to nod, weight shifting from his left to his right leg and back again before he says something too low for you to hear. You’re about to ask him to repeat when he speaks up, this time aiming his voice somewhere around your shoulder while bowing his head.
“No, I- Alright. Just hold on.”
Haunches suitably raised and heart in your throat you pay close attention as the helmet comes up, Jason having released some catch in the back.
It goes over, the helmet clatters to the ground, and the man who stares back at you is…hard to place.
The low fluorescent lighting of the narrow room combined with the concrete walls casts soft enough shadows over his face that while his features are warped they’re not discernible. Which means you can’t completely rule out the uncanniness wafting off of him as just your brain (along with your entire perception of the universe) splinting in half.
It makes your face heat up. He looks familiar, but you can’t say you wouldn’t have passed him straight if you’d seen him on the street. He’s too big for one, even for how you’d all imagined he’d look grown up, standing more than a foot taller than the last day you saw him. Taller than malnourishment would’ve ever let him be.
The sob you let out makes you both flinch.
One hand snaps to your mouth, the other waving him off.
“I’m sorry I- I don’t-. This is just-”
Even with the way he’s leaning away from you he shakes his head. “I get it, it's fine.”
His voice is faint, cut up and hoarse like he hasn’t used it in a while, and it’s the prettiest thing you’ve heard in ages.
“Oh,” you laugh. The wet kind that makes your throat sticky. You can only stare at him, blurry form and all, words lost to you.
Eventually, after watching your fervent effort to wipe away tears that are in no way inclined to give you a break, arms crossed Jason takes a half step forward with a shrug.
“We can…try again?”
The next little laugh you let out you practically choke on but you nod all the same.
When Jason’s the first to move your heart starts speeding away like an overexcited middle school drumline. You roll with it though, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes so they’re dry enough for you to actually see him clearly for a few seconds.
When he’s directly in front of you your hands come up slowly, giving him plenty of opportunity to move away. Or maybe to vanish.
When he does neither, only giving you a guarded look, you allow yourself to touch.
Problem is, the domino mask he’s wearing very quickly gets in your way and on your nerves when you move to frame his face. Quickly feels like if it’s not gone, if you can’t see his eyes, you’ll throw up.
To stop yourself from taking the risk and ripping it off you have to take a deep breath. Have to force down the thick build up of saliva gathering in your mouth so it pushes back the bile climbing up your throat.
“I’d like to see my son, Jason. All of you.”
To emphasize your point you tap the tip of your nail against the mask. There’s no intention on your part to cross his boundary but Jason’s hands snap up to hold onto your wrists all the same.
You look into the white lenses of his domino, fingers buzzing along the corner of the mask closest to them. His mouth twists into a frown.
“Please?”
You beg with the same ferocity a grieving mother once used when begging for her child back.
“You’re asking for a lot.”
He lets go and he takes a couple steps back and you don’t cry.
No, instead you swing your hands behind you. Clasping them together in a poor attempt to stop the buzzing sensation that travels from the tips of your fingers to take over your entire hand.
“Mmm,” you incline your head. “Well. I did help a boy get over first date jitters with a made up song once. Let that same boy talk me through an entire dissertations’ worth of his analysis of Their Eyes Were Watching God - as choppy as it was - because TWMS wouldn’t allow him to present it in class. Let him skip going to that same school and cry to me for hours after the death of Gloria Stanson. Remember a knife hidden in the corner on the highest shelf in his closet, and I remember not revealing any of that when I gave his eulogy because he once asked me to keep the important things between the two of us. So you don’t have to show me, but I think I make a pretty good qualifier when it comes to keeping this safe.”
You point straight to where his heart is tucked safely behind layers of gray armor before shrugging.
From the way his brows furrow over the domino you know he’s at least thinking about it so you step away to pick up your disregarded mask and stuff it in your waistband.
One blink. Six.
“You remember Rena?”
In front of him again, you rock back on your heels. “Mhm. And the ‘how to tie a tie’ lessons me and Bruce walked you through even though you didn’t wear a suit to that date. Remember that too.”
Jason’s smile is crooked on his face but it’s nonetheless present as he makes a noise of agreement.
“I’d just wanted to spend time with you two, I was never planning on wearing a suit to go to the skating rink.”
“We figured.”
You’re rolling onto the balls of your feet when that small smile drops and he shakes his head.
“I’m not that same boy anymore.”
You take in the way he could raise his hand and so easily touch the ceiling without having to jump. You clear the phlegm from your throat.
“I can tell.”
Jason grunts and makes a general gesture indicating something somewhere behind you.
“And I got no interest in trying to live up to whatever fucked up embalment Bruce’s got going on with my burnt suit in that case.”
That suit. Bruce’s memorial. His warning. Your breath hitches as you think of the smell of crisped blood and methanol. If Jason didn’t want to talk about it you sure as shit weren’t going to.
“I will one hundred percent take that into account.” You keep it simple, rocking on your heels again. He wasn’t asking for anything unreasonable so there wasn’t really any debate to be had. “You wanna be treated as you are? I can do that.”
Moments pass once you’ve said your peace where Jason does nothing but stare at you. The only indication he’s at all alive being his shoulders still moving - and you are watching. Eyeing that tell tale up and down like your own life will end at its falter. The pattern is slow enough to come off as pacivity but the time between each rise and fall is too measured to be uncontrolled. Exactly three point eleven seconds one way and three point eleven seconds the other. Every time.
Then he sighs, curses, and the little veil of dissolvent for the adhesive that adheres the mask to his face is in his hand. A different vial and color than when he was Robin; you don’t know why you thought it’d be the same. Or why it makes your heart clench that it’s not.
Between one thrum of the fluorescent lights and the next Jason is peeling away the domino, and you would be lying if you claimed to know where it disappeared to after that. Too caught up on what he’d been hiding to track it.
Blue. Nothing more and nothing less. Just blessedly familiar, vibrant blue. Not the dull gray they’d become by the time you were given the chance to put a gruesome sight of a child six feet under.
The “Oh wow,” tumbles from you without permission and then there’s zero hope for the waterworks you’d been holding back. The levee fails and you’re bawling before you know it. Barely holding back snot and who knows what else since you already feel like screaming.
At that point there’s no carefully thought out sentence for you to spew, no more hesitancy, no more measured breathing, and linear thought. Just the crushing need to have him close to you again.
You’re rushing forward before you know.
Wrapping your arms around Jason the next go around is both the best and the worst thing. You accommodate his new size faster, already writing over the ways he used to fit against you with the ways he does so now, but he’s still so stiff and he’s not reciprocating the hug either.
Maybe you should let go. You crossed the boundary too fast. Were too reckless. You literally have training on this and now you’re crowding him.
Okay, you’re pulling away. It’s a herculean effort but you’re forcing your arms from around his middle. You’ve got to, you don’t want to scare him off. Not when you just got him back.
There’s a soft “Not yet,” mumbled into your shoulder and then arms finally come around yours and you don’t hesitate to snap your own back into place.
He’s hugging you back.
You cry a little harder and bring one of your arms up to drape across his shoulders, pulling him closer. When you start rocking and Jason copies your momentum you press a kiss onto his temple.
“Hi,” you stutter out. Another sob. “Hi baby.”
Since he’s finally letting his arms wrap around you you don’t hesitate to run dark fingers through the truly unruly mass of black curls on his head. His hairs’ damp - most likely from sweat - but cool. Probably being tempered by the cold air blowing into the room.
It’s when you press a kiss to his forehead that you feel something else wet and your breath stutters.
“It’s okay. I got you, everything’s okay,” you whisper.
“God Ma-” his voice cracks and then you can hear the sobs he’s trying to muffle into your suit. “No it’s not.”
“I know,” you sob. “I’m sorry- so so fucking sorry.”
You sniffle and pull away to see him better. Jason’s face is flushed, his eyes wet, and cheeks streaked with tears shed. You hold your hands up to frame his face for a second time and run your thumbs through the tear tracks. His chest heaves as his body tries to regulate his breathing.
Jason clears his throat, gaze boring into yours. “Hi,” he says.
You smile, finally beginning to map out his face. First you move to frame his cheeks, too feel the warmth in them. To see if they still feel familiar. They don’t; you force yourself to accept that fact without letting it show in your expression, letting out a measured exhale before continuing. You find his jaw is more defined now too, cheeks devoid of the baby fat of five years prior.
From then on brushing your thumbs along his brows, over the bridge of his nose, traveling over his ears and skirting around his hairline - it all fills your mind with incoherent cheers.
Your thumbs hover over Jason’s eyes and you hum when he closes them for you.
The skin underneath your shaved off pads is soft. The thin layer of protection allows you to feel how his eyeballs shift, to see the way his veins show stark under light skin, to clock the life thrumming through him.
It makes your heart feel so goddamn light. You can’t stop smiling at the sight of him. Eyes still wet but clear.
“I feel like such a horrible mother,” you hiccup, hands slide down so you can once again cup his face. “I barely recognize you.”
Jason’s breathing shakes nearly in tandem with yours and his eyes squeeze tighter shut, head turning away.
“Don’t.” He takes a second to look up. Look right through you. Lashes wet and glassy eyes open, voice grating over his next words. “Don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault. I don’t blame any of you for that, but especially not you.”
What you want to do is argue. You should’ve never let him put on that suit in the first place, one fucked up son should’ve been the end of it. You should’ve dropped the case you were working the second you’d heard he’d run away and you should’ve found him. Instead you keep your thoughts personal, pinning them to your brain as if it’s a cushion so that you’ll never forget, and pull your son closer. An action which he allows, resting his head on your shoulder.
“I’m glad you’re back,” you whisper into his hair. The way he instantly shakes his head makes the cool strands tickle your jawline.
“You can’t mean that.”
“If I didn’t mean it I wouldn’t have said it, Jay.”
Jason tenses before responding, words spewing without warning.
“Yeah except I’ve killed people, and I don’t regret it, and Bruce hates that - and you probably do too - but his way isn’t good enough. The people in this city deserve better so I’m doing what’s necessary-”
And that has you bristling. He must notice too because he stops short and edges away, face steeping. Caught somewhere between wanting to leave and wanting to fully kick start an argument.
…TBC
NOTES: Hope you enjoyed! I had to split this bitch in two cause it was 5,000+ words and I’m not in the business of under-indulging myself.
Listen, I’ve looked into it. Every mother/mother figure Jason’s ever had he’s referred to as “Mom”, but me personally, I didn’t grow up addressing my own mother that way so I wanted to play around with “Ma” (differentiate a little). What's funny though, is that I’ve read Dick referring to his mother as both “Ma” and “Mom” so that’s fun.
• TWMS = Thomas Wayne Middle School
btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.
Tagged: @aarinisreading, @niphredil-14, @mxtokko, @calsjack, @brunnetteiwik
#jason todd#red hood#black!reader#black y/n#black!batmom#•long overdue (the series)#batmom & jason todd#jason todd x batmom#jason todd imagine#red hood imagine#jason todd angst#batfamily x black!batmom#batmom x jason todd#batfamily x batmom#bruce wayne x batmom#divorced!batmom#batmom angst#batmom#batmom!reader#batfamily x black!reader#bruce wayne x black!batmom!reader#bruce wayne x black!reader#x black reader#jason todd x black!reader#jason todd fanfiction#batfamily fic#batfamily angst
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A change in fate ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾
pairing: no breakout!Joel x fem reader
Summary: Your toxic ex kicks you out of your place without another word. Only hiring a mover to get your stuff somewhere else. And when Joel finds you in a state of disarray, and stays indifferent, you butt heads until it comes to a head when your paths cross again after that night. That time, much more complicated.
Content warning: age gap, you're 21 and Joel is mid 30s to early 40s. Enemies to lovers.
word count: 4k
A/N: this is the first of a two-part series inspired by an old movie I grew up with. If you can recognize it, I'll like, give you a really big treat. no nsfw this chapter, but the next one will. And as always, let me know if you like my work or if you have any suggestions for anything else I could write :)
Part 2 out now!!: to make you forget
“NO. No. No no no no no no no NO!!!”
Your fist hits solid wood once more. Every slam that pounds upon its impenetrable front leaves a mark on your hand in the shape of bruises and soreness-- you try the door once more. It's locked, as it had been the last ten times you attempted to open it. Desperation laced in the fruitless fervor that played its sound of metal clanking on metal as the knob refused to turn.
The thump on the ground follows a fall of your knees. Defeated, hopeless, in a dress that isn't even yours. Tears stream from your face in such passion you can't even feel them anymore as more of you is wet than it is dry. You imagine you look a mess, hair disheveled as you held it as you screamed at him-- makeup once beautiful and elegant streams down and across your face in the motion your hands chose to wipe away your tears.
A screeching of tires followed by the shutting of a door is what knocks you out of this pathetic display. A man walks over to you and begins to pick up the boxes right beside you, carrying them to the back of his truck that has the title “MOVERS” painted on its side. You clamor to your feet, disorientation doesn't help the heels strapped to your feet as you chase after him;
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going with those? Who the hell are you?”
Rancor coats your tongue as your anger spits out onto him, He stands in the middle of an empty parking lot with only the light emanating from houses and lamps decorating the street are you able to take him in.
He was tall, perhaps 6ft, an older man. Salt and pepper hair covered just above his forehead and a stern face was complimented by equally gruff facial hair of similar color, and a frown that seemed natural for him. He wore an old jacket-- probably made in the same year you were born with plaid linings on its inside to support a Carhartt branded outside. All the clothes upon his body seemed worn, from the stained jeans and a belt fitted so many times it might as well have been made for the exact curve of his body, to the heavy worker's boots with every scratch telling a story beyond your years. He looks at you. Up and down his eyes register curiously the woman that stood before him. He scoffs, and with a low Texan drawl he replies in kind;
“Well princess, looks here like someone was kind enough to get yourself a mover for all them boxes outside the house. ‘Supose you know where i'm to drop em off?”
“They can stay right here.”
It comes out of you not in a literal sense, but you guess a plea of desperation. You can't imagine that this is actually happening. You can't just leave. After all the years you spent with him, all the hours you poured into his care and the best he can do is call up some old guy to take your shit somewhere else?
“Now you know I can't do that. I ain't come all the way down here just for’ nothin. Now, I was hired to move, least you can let me do is my job.”
His palms outstretched to you as he finishes putting the first box in the back of his truck, looking to you with little care for what you’re properly going through, moreso just a plea to let him go home sometime before 1 in the morning.
your breath grows uneven again, you feel something build up in you again as you just refuse to accept this. Turning your back to him, you storm over to another box untouched by him and kick it, screaming and crying and truly just making a mess of yourself as you collapse once again on the curb of the sidewalk. Folding your arms across your knees, and with a head buried deep in your chest you sit there for a moment as you listen to the crunch of his boots against the loose gravel along the pavement trail back and forth past you as each box is stored into the vehicle.
“Still haven't given me an address. Or were ya’ thinkin' of just sitting here and lettin' me take yer’ things?”
Irritation follows his tone as he becomes increasingly impatient about your behavior.
“I don't have anywhere to go.”
“Surely you got someplace. Now get a move on, I'm bout damn tired of all this.”
He drags you up by your upper arms, feeling his calloused hands hold onto the smoothness of your body as he lifts you to your feet. Shocked though, you push him away from you in haste;
“I can get up by myself. Thank you very much.”
You dust yourself off for just a moment before continuing, he looks at you with impatience.
“And I need a ride.”
He stammers a bit as he begins to speak,
“A- fucking,? Damn. alright then. Just get the hell on alright? Sure you wouldn't want em’ having to pay me extra.”
He walks back to his truck as you follow, The two footsteps upon the concrete road are all that can be heard in the neighborhood as your pain slowly wells into your chest, and the outbursts cease.
------------------------------------
“Now, listen here. We've been drivin' for damn near an hour now, and ain't nothing come of it. Where the hell am I takin you? Or I'm about to leave ya on the side of the damn road. I've got a kid at home.”
“Just take me to the other side of town.”
“Are you fuckin kidding me? Now, I don't know what you've got goin on and I truly, don't want to. But you're real damn selfish ya know that? Makin me drive all over town like this like I'm some goddamn taxi. This place best got some money to pay me for.”
His voice is deep, gruff, and when laced with the anger of a despondent woman who seems as if she has all the time in the world he's not keen to hold back judgment anymore. His hand grips the steering wheel firmly and doesn't look at you for a moment as he speaks to you.
You're taken aback, to say the least. After the pain you've felt, the torment you've faced the only thing to greet you is the unwanted mouth of some old man who doesn't know what he's talking about.
“I'm selfish? You don't know the night I've had. How can you call me selfish? You were hired for a reason so why don't you just do your fucking job okay? As long as you’re getting paid it shouldn't matter a damn to you.”
You shrug your shoulders and cross your arms in his passenger seat, watching him with disdain as he grips the wheel and drives relatively carelessly through the empty streets just to get you out.
After a few minutes more, and by a few you mean around 30, you find yourself in front of a home you’d never think to see again truthfully. As you take in the sight of it, a simple house facing an otherwise unimpactful street, but you held memories of all your years within the confines of these blocks. You were home, after so many years away.
“Get out.”
He says bluntly. The clock shines a bright 1:47 on its dash, signifying that you definitely didn't meet his “before 1” pleas. But damn, could he have been any nicer about it?
You watch as he hops out of the car himself, to the sound of a hard opening of the back that held all your belongings. And as you made your way ever so slowly out of his truck, trying to not fall as the step was coated in the darkness of the night that was no longer politely illuminated by street lights. As you made your way to the concrete below you, rounding his truck was he almost done putting your stuff back out, only on a different curb this time. And without a second to spare, he gets back into his truck, and leaves. Not a word said to you, not even an exchange.
What an asshole.
-------------------------------------------
“So you’re telling me, that the man you were with for how many years, kicked you out for what?”
The voice of your childhood friend rang once more through the old walls of the house, in the kitchen where you two sat. this was her family home, one that she now inherited, and one that after many years of silence on your part, she gladly opened up to you as well.
“We were together almost 3 years. And he just, found another girl I guess. But she was in my closet, filled with her clothes. It's as if he’d moved me out overnight. He didn't have a word to say to me, it's like I never even mattered to him. But I've told you this time and time again, what more can I even do at this point?”
She repositions herself with her legs crossing over one another as she looks for a response, taking a sip of coffee before having it dawn on her.
“Today. 3 pm. Uncles holding a barbeque. You remember my uncle right? Everyone will be there. Maybe we could find you a good little rebound to bring you down to earth.”
“Are you- a rebound? Seriously? Is that all you can think of right now?”
“Listen. The only thing you can do with a broken heart is fix it. And that doesn't happen in a day. Least you can do is get something tasty to chase the pain with. Like hot old guys. You’re only 21! This is the prime time to do whatever you want.”
You think for a second. Letting this wash over you as you try and figure out the next thing to do. Do you really doll yourself up after the most traumatic evening of your life is not even 24 hours in your past, just to eye all of your friends older relatives, and family friends that you’ve been ogling at since you were 16?
I mean fuck it, what else are you going to do.
Following your friend up the stairs, she lets out an excited giggle at the prospect of having you back after so many years. There's so many things to tell, different people to see, and subsequently laugh at, but the best of all her skills with a brush have gotten much better since the last time she helped you look good. Much better, apparently for as you looked at yourself in the mirror you could barely recognize the woman looking back at you-- let alone any trace of the girl sat in a torn dress the night before screaming outside her ex’s house.
You put on a pretty yellow dress, adorned with flowers It's hemmed all properly frilled to some level, and the flow of the skirt portion barely getting over your back end does the top also treat you well; a low neck cup to shape your chest perfectly as the daintiness of your outfit, paired with little yellow heels, made you look properly irresistible.
-----------------------------------
“Guess whos backkk!!!”
The excited shrills of your friend beside you make everyone who'd arrived at the party thus far to crane their heads back to look, all of which subsequently smiled with shock as they looked upon you. None of them had seen you since you were 17, about 18 years old. That's when you left, the moment you could. Looking back you missed all of this so much, the community, the story told in every face that looked upon you. But all is lost now and the most you can do is make the best out of the time you have right now-- and as it stands you’re at the center of it all.
They approach you by the droves, asking every question they can that have undoubtedly had rumored answers to in your absence; detailing from where you've been, what you’re doing, where you go to school, where you work, and most hurtful-- how your ex was doing. You briefly told them all that you and him had since parted, and that you were just getting back on track, spending some time at your friend's house in the meantime. They all looked upon you in sympathy, but as more people entered the party the more they dispersed to greet other guests.
“Oh my god, is that who I think it is?”
A low, familiar tone enters the backyard where you stand, and turning around to face you is your friend's father. Who, for most of your life was like a father to you as well. He opens his arms and you follow suit, embracing him in what feels like a much-needed hug, before setting you down again to continue talking to you.
“Oh, honey if, if I'd known you were coming I'd have brought you something. How long has it been since I last saw you? God, you seem so grown up now. It's like I barely even know you.”
His head moves to look behind him for a second, and soon he ushers someone forward to join in the conversation.
“Ah, there's something I'd love for you to meet. This is a good friend of mine, Joel. I haven't had him around any of these much, he just moved back here from Texas a couple weeks back. But he's someone I've known my whole life. Kinda like you and my daughter in a way!”
Though as the man who emerged behind him reared his head, you couldn't believe your eyes. It was him, of course, it was him. That asshole that drove you home like you were the greatest burden he's ever had to carry.
“Yer fuckin kidding me.”
He looks at you in shock. Nothing more. However, you see that to his side is a young girl, no older than 12 who seems to be in awe over you. Her hair was tucked into each side of her face to illuminate it in a crown of curls that came to her shoulder and stretched all the way to her ears in volume. She wore a small shark tooth necklace, and some form of singer on her shirt that you didn't recognize.
He-, Joel, looks down at her;
“Sarah how bout you go say hi to your friends for me. I'm gonna be busy a moment”
She runs off, and your friend's dad begins to speak again.
“Do you, know each other from somewhere? I can't imagine you do.”
“She's that insane little girl I told you ‘bout. The one kickin n’ screaming all over the place. Reason why Sarah hadta’ stay the night at your place.”
“The insane little girl?”
You chime in.
“There's no way- Joel, you’ve probably got the wrong girl”
“No, he has the right one.”
You stare directly at him, sending daggers into each of the brown eyes that look back at you.
“He kicked me out of his car at almost 2 in the morning without a single word. Isn't that right?”
Though no matter how piercing your gaze it fails to impact him as it should, for with equal level tone he snipes back;
“Yep, after makin me drive all the way cross’ town just cause she wanted to. Knowin I got someone waitin’ for me. Clearly, something she don't understand all too much anymore.”
That was unnecessary.
Something brews inside of you as you glance upon his finger void of a ring, even a tan that would indicate its recent removal. Though as the only sane-minded person seemingly left to observe watches your eyes as you make such a connection, he swiftly puts an end to it.
“Now, Joel. you know how young girls are they-”
“I'm not that young.”
“Alright well, they. Are just passionate, that's all. She was with him for how many was it now? Three years? Left the moment she turned of age. Clearly she just doesn't know how a mans supposed to be. This is all she really knows.”
This is all she really knows.
That's all that rang through your head as the conversation died and Joel exchanged brief apology. That in a way, he was all you really knew. And now you’re back home, and you don't know what to do with yourself, really. You don't know what you like, or what you don't like. It was all just, him. For so long. You vowed to yourself that day that, no matter what went on you would say yes to anything. To embrace kind of, anything that came your way as some divine fate, or at the very least a fun experience.
As the night droned on, and you fielded the barrage of squeals, hugs from people you don't remember, and a bit more liquor you could've accounted for, the night came to a slow end. Feeling eyes on you constantly was one thing, but feeling the eyes on the man with who’d you'd had a comfortable reunion was even worse in a way. Although, as you looked upon him in your own moments you saw in him something unveiled after the veil of hatred and sorrow fell off of you. Something, interesting about him. Attractive. Obviously nothing you were going to personally indulge in, but an interesting assertion nonetheless. He stood in the light of the evening, fairy lights covering the backyard as it illuminated his now more time-appropriate outfit; one of marginally better jeans and a plaid shirt, rolled to his elbows to reveal what were impressive forearms, and with the proper fit of his shirt, showed an impressive physique for a single dad.
… … …
Thats stupid. Anyways, the night drew to a close and as you saw your friend too wrapped up in the conversation of someone relatively older than her, you decided to take the few blocks walk home, especially since you didn't have a car anymore either. Though as you exit the front door to travel down the sidewalk you hear a familiar accent call out to you after only a few feet have been made distance between you and the doorframe;
“Ya’ walking home this late at night?”
“Yeah, I am. Not like I've got a car do I?”
You turn your body to look at him, but only after you've finished your sentence, using the body language of someone unequipped for any more stupid banter to cue him into leaving you alone.
“How’s about I drive you home. Least I can do after what I’d said today. It wasent quite my place.”
His voice has an unfamiliar tune of sympathy as he lets out that apology of sorts, so you engage. Though, begrudgingly.
“Don’t you have a daughter to take care of? That seemed what got you so mad before.”
He sighs a little, you notice you've hit a bit of a nerve.
“Well, she’ll be stayin' at a friend's place for a few days, really hit it off. Got nothin but time on my hands now.”
“Well in that case I'm not gonna say no to a free ride. Obviously.”
You smile a bit, a first with him. Other than ones of sarcasm, every interaction you've had with him thus far hasn't been all that pleasant. And he smiles back. And, as the light of the moon shines down upon his weathered face, the smirk on his makes your smile grow even more.
Hopping into his car once more, you take the road to your place with a little more enjoyment than how it transpired the night before. This time, the sound of his music accompanied by a hum through his car is what played to fill the silence of the atmosphere. Something old, country, of course. You’d never heard it, and it sounded well beyond even his years. But despite that, there was a comforting air that was shared in the car-- cool air blowing in from the windows rolled down, watching as his arm held on to the side of the car door from the open window, tapping its side in unison to the beat.
“This here is it right?”
Pulling up to your shared home you felt almost a little reluctant to respond with a yes. Though when you do, he steps out of the car as you do as well. You watch as he awaits your circle to the front where he stood, as a means to walk with you to the front of your door. Looking at him curiously as you reach the entrance, he gives response to your motions, though you watch as his fingers fiddle with one another ever so slightly as he poses such a response;
“It ain’t right leaving a lady to walk all by herself after dropping her off. And, I just wanted to say again that it ain't my place makin assumptions about you like that. Wanted to know if I could make it up to ya’. Kinda seems like lifes dealt you a bad hand right now, thought to offer you a drink over it.”
A drink?
You thought about that for a second. The man that kicked you out of his car, literally less than 24 hours ago, is now offering to take you out for a drink. Well, it was as a means for apology. So that's something. Nothing more to it, it's a Southern thing. They drink to anything. Especially sorrow.
“I think I’ll have to take you up on that. You’ll know where I’ll be.”
You reply with a smile that grows just large enough to show your teeth. He gazed at you for a bit longer, as his eyes grew brighter at the prospect of an invitation accepted. He was a lot less harsh than meets the eye, it seemed. But you still weren't properly convinced. And, there was still much a mystery about him that although intimidated you, enticed you even more. You cock your hip to the side of the doorframe, leaning up against it as he spoke to you as a means to accentuate your figure just a bit as he looked at you. Just to see what would happen.
“Oh, alright then. 7 alright with you? I’ll come pick you up course’.”
“Seven’s more than alright with me. I'll see you then, Joel.”
As you bid farewell to him, you watched as his eyes tracked your movements as you did so. The way your hips have shifted place, the tone at which your voice shifted ever so slightly. He took in your gaze, a small cat eye that sharpened your eyes paired with the sly smile of a woman your age was enough to catch his stare for a moments longer than it should've. You relished in that.
He leaves you off with a nod and a smile, though you take the time that he walks back to his truck as a means to take in all that he was without interruption. He was handsome, to say the least. There was something to be said about a man with southern hospitality and an ass made from manual labor that reached deeper into a realm of attraction that was often untapped by the men of your age range. And you enjoyed greatly that you’d discovered such a thing.
Tomorrow, 7pm, Joel.
#joel#joel miller smut#joel tlou#joel x reader#joel smut#joel fanfic#joel miller#joel miller x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#pedro x reader#pedro pascal#the last of us#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fanfic#joel tlou x reader
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Culmination
Somi's story continues as her husband returns; what will she do? No, but we will see this conclude the story.
Length 2.2K
Somi X Mreader
Previous Part
"I don't want to go home! I want to stay here with you! I want to keep fucking!" Somi cries as she holds onto your leg. Her phone buzzes again, another message.
"I can't wait, honey. I'll have a different position when I get back. I won't need to travel so much, and I can finally spend time at home." You both see the message from her husband.
"He'll be back and spending more time at home. Even if I wanted to, there would be no chance."
"I-I… no." Somi shakes her head violently. She runs her hand through her hair, ruffling it. Her breathing quickens, "I-"
"No more of this, Somi. Go home. He'll be waiting for you." You get up and toss Somi a jacket. "I'll take you there." Somi sits on the floor, unmoving. Through many struggles, you put Somi in her clothes and get her to her home. She doesn't move or make a sound. Walking over to her side of the car, you open the door and carry her inside. You leave her on a couch and bring in her things, clothes, toys, and everything that she had brought to your place. She sits on the sofa, head buried in her hands as you leave. The drive back home is quiet and peaceful.
The following day you wake up to a load of videos and pictures from Somi. Each one involves her doing some lewd act and begging you to continue the relationship. In one, she's bouncing on a dildo with her legs spread wide open, letting you see her dripping sex as she wishes it was your cock. In another, she's forcing a toy down her throat, her throat bulging when she pushes it in deep. Somi looks into the camera with lustful eyes in each video. As for the pictures, the final one she sends is of her with self-degrading words written on her naked body, "master's pussy" with an arrow pointing to her cunt and the like is written everywhere. A constant throughout everything is the collar she wears. The collar symbolized her submission to you; it was bought for that specific purpose. "Master, your fucktoy needs you. These toys aren't enough for me; I need your big hard cock." She sends in her final message. You ignore her, putting your phone back down.
When Somi's husband arrived, she made it seem as if everything was normal. However, Somi would send you videos where she'd have a vibrator inside her, explaining that she was hiding everything from her husband. She would still wear the collar, though. You don't know what he thought when he saw Somi wearing such a collar. One day you received a message from him asking you to join them for dinner. You tried to refuse but were forced into it in the end. When the day came for this meal, you tried to keep things professional. "It’s nice to have you back."
"It’s nice to be back. I'm glad I managed to finish early; I was missing Somi." He responds.
"Where is she, by the way? I haven't seen her."
"Oh, she's cooking." Somi pokes her head out and smiles at you, still wearing that collar. As you turn your head back, you see him rubbing the back of his neck. "Um, you may have noticed that collar. I'm not sure what's come over her. She refuses to take it off."
"Yeah, it's something alright." You reply, trying to figure out how to continue.
He leans in and whispers, "Between you and me, she's also been craving sex at every moment. I can't do it anymore, so I thought inviting you might give me a break."
"Well, you know, you've been gone for so long. She's… probably pent up." You say that, knowing fully why she is the way she is.
"Dinner's ready!" Somi shouts from the kitchen. She brings out plate after plate of food. You both go to help her and while her husband goes to place a plate on the table, Somi kisses your cheek. "Master, I've tried filling the void, but he's not enough. He doesn't- can't fuck me like you can." She whines quietly into your ear. "Master, your fucktoy needs her owner to use her," Somi adds before returning to the dining room. You follow quickly and place the final plate on the table. Taking your seat, you're annoyed Somi is sitting opposite of you while her husband sits to your right. As you all begin eating and talking, Somi can't help but rub your crotch with her foot. You don't react and push her foot away. Somi frowns for a second before trying to hide her expression.
"So, how was the trip?" You ask.
"Oh, you know, business is business. I was missing Somi the entire time, though. Did you miss me, Somi?" She fakes a smile and nods without saying a word. She stuffs her face so that she wouldn't have to speak. "I'm just glad to have a different position now; I can stay here and not leave her alone so often." You glance at Somi and see her roll her eyes as her husband continues talking. The meal went like this for a long time; her husband drank a lot of alcohol and got drunk. "Did I tell you about how we've been having sex nonstop?" He boasts. "You should hear her." He says before leaning in for a kiss from her. Somi looked as if she was going to boil over in anger. You watched on awkwardly.
Somi stands up and slaps her husband. "You can't make me feel anything!" She yells. "Anytime we've had sex, I've faked it! I faked everything! Every moan, every orgasm, everything!" Somi's husband looks at her with a shocked expression. "Your little shrimp dick can't make me feel anything! I need a real cock…. I…I want a divorce. I can't do this anymore." Somi glances at you before storming off.
You and her husband sit there in silence before you eventually stand. "I think I should go. You two seem to, uh, need space." You nod your head at him before leaving him to sit there. Soon after you arrive home, there's a knock at the door. Checking through the peephole, you see Somi, much like the first time she came to you.
"Master, your fucktoy is ready for you." She says as she opens her jacket. Words like bitch and whore are scribbled on her body, "Do you like what you see, Master? I brought my toys too." She says as she steps to the side to reveal a suitcase. Somi knocks again, "Master? I know you're in there. I saw your car." You open the door.
"What are you doing here, Somi?"
"I can't stay at that place anymore. I'm divorcing him after all. So now we can be together. We can go back to how things were before. We can have all the sex we want." Somi says matter of factly. She steps toward you, pressing her breasts against you. " She stands on her tippy toes and whispers, "You can do anything you want to me, Master. You can even get me pregnant. Can you imagine that? Me with a big swollen belly, you can still fuck me then if you want. We don't have to worry about anyone being involved anymore."
You step aside and allow Somi inside. "Would you mind explaining why you did what you did?"
"I couldn't stay there anymore. I tried having sex with him, but he couldn't make me cum. He'd be done, and I got nothing out of it." Somi throws her jacket off and kneels down. She gazes up toward you and opens her mouth. Waiting for you to use her, she sticks her tongue out and kneads her breasts. The sight before you makes you hard, and as much as you want to ignore her actions, you decide not to. You pull down your pants and ram your cock down her throat.
Somi happily accepts it, placing her hands on your thighs as you thrust. "You're just a stupid little whore aren't you?" Somi smiles and nods as best as she can. The cock going up and down her throat doesn't give her the ability to speak. The look on Somi's face is one of pure bliss as her tongue runs along the underside of your cock. Holding her to the base of your cock you feel Somi's tongue slither to your balls, lapping at them before you thrust again. Somi moaned; she rubbed her cunt while you used her warm mouth. Her lips were tightly wrapped around your cock, but that didn't stop drool from dripping down her chin onto her tits. She giggles as you reach down and starts playing with them.
You slowly drag your cock out of her mouth, leaving it at her lips for a second. Somi knows what you want and kisses the head of your cock. "If you want my tits so badly, then why don't you use them?" Somi kneads her breasts, pinching her nipples while waiting. Placing your cock between Somi's tits, you feel the soft flesh surrounding your shaft as she begins stroking your cock with them. "I love your cock." Somi whispers as the warm member slides between her tits, coating them in saliva and precum. "Master's cock is the best." Somi stares at your cock before glancing at you. "Do you like watching your dumb whore use her tits?" She asks, almost innocently.
"Of course," you reply as you push her head down and make her take licks at the head of your cock when it pokes up from her mounds. You start thrusting between Somi's big tits when you feel your orgasm coming. Somi can tell you're close, too; the throbbing cock between her breasts tells her as much.
"Are you going to cum?" She asks. When you nod your head, she continues, "Cum on my tits, Master!" You explode on her chest, releasing a large wave of semen onto her chest and neck. You pull on her collar, ensuring she gets a pearl necklace.
Pulling on Somi's collar, you get her to her feet. You drag her along to the kitchen, where you bend her over the counter. A hard strike to her ass makes her yelp. You hit her again; Somi's ass slowly becomes red with a large handprint in the middle. "That's it, Master, show your whore who's boss." Somi moans as you spank her again. You press your cock against her cunt, waiting for a second before you impale Somi with it. "Oh fuck!" She cries, and she feels you tear through her pussy. "I feel so full, fuck me, Master. Fuck me!" You hold Somi in place as you start thrusting; her tight cunt holds you as your bodies slam against each other. Long breathy moans fill the space as Somi enjoys the feeling of your cock slamming into her womb. Letting go of her waist, you move your hands to her breasts, pinching and pulling her nipples.
"I'm going to cum inside you." You say to Somi.
"Cum inside me, cum inside me!" She moans. "I want you to fill me with your hot cum!" Somi places her hands over yours and squeezes her tits. Being brought so close to her climax, Somi's toes curl as you impale her on your cock and begin filling her with your cum. She screams; the few days of having no orgasms are over. Somi's nectar blasts out onto the cabinets under her as she climaxes. Your cum paints her walls white as they travel to her womb. "Oh god. I feel so full. So full of nice warm cum." Somi lays her head against the cold marble countertop and smiles. "You definitely knocked me up." You lean back and spank Somi. "Oh, Daddy, not so rough on Mommy," Somi coos. You pull your cock out of Somi and watch cum leak onto the floor. Somi's feet reach the ground, and she kneels before you again. "Are we done, Daddy? Or is this just round one?" Somi takes your shaft in her hand and strokes your cock, her hand is dirtied by the cum and nectar on it, but that doesn't bother her. She drags the tip of her tongue along your shaft before popping the tip in her mouth and sucking on it. You push your cock in deeper, causing Somi to laugh. "I knew that was just round one." She says, mumbling her words. You continued to fill Somi's holes with your cum the rest of the day.
Somi had gone back to wearing nothing as she lived with you. You tried to get her to live elsewhere, but it didn't work out. She’d just be your live-in fucktoy for now. She'd occasionally get messages from her husband, hoping that they would be able to repair the relationship. That didn't work out, either. After he had figured out Somi was living with you, he came to try to talk. Having happened to just gotten home, you were both fully dressed; answering the door, Somi stood there surprised. He was in shock, too, Shocked to see his ex's belly swollen with a child. He fell to his knees, and Somi stared at him before shutting the door in his face without a word being said.
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Enraptured (Poe POV)
Poe Dameron X Fem!Reader
Rating : E / 18+
Word count : 2600 (ish)
Warnings : PIV, fingering, semi-public sex, tiny bit of needy!Poe, sprinkles of feral!Poe, reader wears a dress, lack of self confidence, praise kink, cock warming, fluff, brief mentions of F/oral receiving, a tad of possessiveness in a soft way
Summary: Poe litterally can't keep his hands off you during a party (This is Clandestine... but from Poe's POV ;) )
A/N : It's not necessary to have read Clandestine to enjoy this. It's simply the same story from another (slightly more feral) point of view.
He can't stop his foot from bouncing impatiently under the table, trying anything to distract himself from the way you look, bathed in flickering multicolour lights, your dress accentuating every part of you that he loves.
He has so many regrets about agreeing to come tonight. He hates these types of parties as it is, full of stuck-up politicians, only out for their own gain. But this one, this is so much worse because of you. He can't concentrate on anything, and now to top it off he can't even leave the table because, well, in short, everyone would see exactly what you do to him.
He wants to look elsewhere, he wants to distract himself, but he can't. All he can do is stare at you, imagining the way you would look bent over the table, your dress hiked up high, the plush of your ass against his hips as he presses himself deep inside you, making you scream his name.
Damn Jess for helping you pick that dress. He really must remember to thank her the next time he sees her.
"Stop that," you scold him, for probably the thousandth time tonight.
"Stop what?" He grins at you, licking his lips as his eyes flicker up and down your body for absolutely the thousandth time. He really can't help himself anymore.
"Looking at me," you hiss in response, adjusting your dress.
He wishes you didn't fidget the way you do, like his gaze makes you uncomfortable. You don't see how truly beautiful you are — more than anyone, anything, he's ever seen. Your smile, your laugh, your kindness, your good heart, the way you never take any of his bullshit, the way you make his heart beat just as wildly as flying does. Poe knows he's in too deep with you. He's fallen harder than he ever has. He can't stop looking at you because you're all he can see, all he can ever see these days.
But you, beautiful, sexy, sweet, funny, you can't always accept that. And so the fidget only cements that he wants to show you just how much he wants you, right now.
"I'm admiring," he clarifies, refusing to move his gaze, determined to make you see what he sees.
"Well, admire something else," you answer, refusing to look at him.
Poe almost scoffs to himself. Admire something else? Not fucking likely with his cock impatiently throbbing with need.
"I can't," he leans in close to you, his voice a low hiss. He's genuinely surprised you haven't realised why yet, that it hasn't even been a thought to cross your mind. "You have no idea how much I can't."
He has a fleeting thought about grabbing your hand and showing you exactly what you do to him, but honestly, if you touched him now, he'd probably cum in his pants and ruin all the fun he plans to have with you later.
"Poe."
It's only half a warning. He can see it in your eyes — the flicker of desire. He's an expert at reading you, or at least he likes to think he is, and so far he hasn't been wrong. Maybe he can convince you to leave early. One of you could fake an illness, make your excuses, and stumble back to your room. He reckons he could probably make it as far as the lift before he has you pinned against the wall, your leg held up over his hip, fingers gripping your thigh as you tremble for him.
Kriff, he needed to slow down before he blows his load without so much as a brush of your flesh against his.
Taking a breath to steady himself, his eyes flicker over you once more, reading every micro expression. Yeah, you are starting to want this just as much as he needs it. Bedroom, lift, hell even getting to the door out of here is going to be too much trouble. He isn't making it that far.
"Come sit with me. At least let me hold you," he whispers softly, slipping his hand into yours. Your fingers grip his, warm and soft, suspicion in your eyes. But when he tugs, you follow, allowing him to guide you down onto his lap.
Such a good girl for me.
Your gasp as you sit makes his cock twitch, just the soft friction of your movement enough to start shredding whatever little patience he has left.
"I need you," he whispers against your ear. "I need you, now." He brushes his nose up the column of your neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of you, wishing he had time, and enough restraint, to climb under the table and taste you before he cums, but he doesn't.
"Poe, we are in public!"
Maybe you are right. Maybe it's time to stop before he gets too far but fuck, he's too far gone. The delicious little wriggle you do on his lap does absolutely nothing to help.
"I can't wait," he groans, his hips rutting against you of their own accord, desperate for any sort of friction. "Please baby, it's been like this all night. Please. I need to be inside you."
He's begging now and he doesn't care. All he can think about is how desperately he needs to feel you soaking his cock, how desperately he wants to show you the effect you have on him, how desperately he wants you to believe you're worthy of it.
Even in the dim lighting, he catches the little smirk at the corner of your mouth. Perhaps you're just a little proud that you can reduce him to this. You have no true idea what you could reduce him to if you wanted to. If you asked he'd get down on his knees and beg you for just a glance in his direction. There isn't anything he wouldn't do for you.
"I'll be good to you," he promises, catching the hem of your dress and dragging it up, splaying his hands against your soft thighs, inching them up higher. "You know how good I can be to you."
You shiver at the touch of his hands and he wonders if your mind fills with memories like his does — back to all the nights you've spent together, your head tipped back on sweat soaked sheets as he worships at the altar of your body.
"If anyone sees…" your voice trails off with a sigh as he presses his lips against your neck, fighting to keep his hands still while he gives you time to consider your position.
"They won't." He's confident in that. If there's one thing he is, it's observant. He knows everyone is too caught up in their own night to worry about the two of you tucked away in a dark corner. The table just about covers your lap, where your dress is hiked up, his hands drifting closer to your hot core. The music is loud enough that nobody will hear you.
They won't see, but honestly, Poe couldn't give a damn if they do. Let them look, let them watch, let them see you are his.
He moves his mouth down your neck, slowly, invitingly, pausing to suck against your pulse point, marking you as his own, his hands pushing your thighs apart. Your pliancy to his actions only fuels his desire for you. He's proud that you allow this, that you trust him to do this. He's absolutely going to make it worth your while. Well, he's at least going to try and last long enough to make it worth your while.
His fingers finally slip between your thighs and it's like his lungs have suddenly collapsed, all the air rushing out suddenly.
You aren't wearing panties. His fingers brush against bare wet, no not just wet, soaked, flesh.
His plan was to gently tease you, make you admit how much you're enjoying this, how much you want this, but somehow his entire vocabulary is erased by the shock.
"Fuck," is all he manages to punch out as he drags his fingers up over your clit, relishing the way your hips jerk in response. He lets out a low whine against your neck as he ruts into your ass, desperate for release.
He swears he almost cums at the gasp you let out when he slips a finger into you. You're so hot. He has to pause for a moment, calming himself as you take a breath of your own, before he finally draws his finger up and over your clit, and then back down, sinking two fingers into you.
"Shouldn't have let you leave the room," he grumbles as you squirm, each jolt of your hips only drawing his attention to his painfully hard cock.
Why did he decide to listen to you about coming to this party? Why did he decide he could wait? Of all the questionable decisions Poe has made in his life, he's putting the one of agreeing to leave the room before burying himself inside you, at least twice, right at the top. Well, at least for now.
He curls his fingers slowly against your walls, his thumb barely stroking your clit with feather light touches, keeping you just tiptoeing the edge. After all you've put him through tonight, you deserve a little payback.
When your wriggling increases and your chest starts to heave with the effort of biting down your moans of pleasure, he licks a hot stripe up your neck, enjoying the way your breath catches and your body jerks.
"Can I fuck you now?"
He waits with bated breath to see how far you'll let him take this.
He'd never push you further than you wanted, never make you do something you're uncomfortable with. If you say no now then he'll wait, as much as it might drive him to the point of absolute madness. At this point, he might just cum in his pants from looking at you anyway.
"Yes," you breathe out, and then you roll your hips back against him. Poe curses loudly, unceremoniously removing his fingers from you and scrambling to undo his pants, every last bit of patience blasted to pieces. Later he'll apologise about the rush, be embarrassed about it, but right now, he has to have you.
His hands grip your hips, probably a little harder than necessary if he was honest, as you take a breath and sink down onto his cock. Poe's eyes roll back and he has to bite down on your shoulder to muffle the moan of pleasure as your walls flutter hot and tight around him.
He realises too late that`s a mistake, and right as his teeth sink into your flesh, your pussy clenches around him. His hips jolt upwards of their own accord, pressing him deeper into you and listening to your choked moan as he fights not to cum then and there.
"Shit baby, don't do that," he warns, taking a trembling breath. "Not unless you want this over really qui-nghh!"
Of course, you do it again. Of course, he should have expected it. But he didn't, and it takes every last bit of self restraint he has not to pin you down over the table and fuck you so hard you'll still feel it tomorrow.
"Stop," he warns, gritting his teeth, trying to think of anything but the searing heat engulfing his dick. "Don't wanna rush this."
You clench again and he growls a frustrated warning. He wants you to just sit still for a damn minute while he catches his breath before this ends too quickly for both of you. But you seem to have no intentions of letting him do that.
Well if it was going to be that way, two could play that game. He was going to drag this out now. Fuck you slowly, deeply, like he has all the time in the world. Poe's stubbornness was the only thing that could outweigh his desperate desire.
He grinds his hips upwards, pressing deep inside you, pulling you down against him as he does, ensuring you feel all of him. Your whole body reacts, and he can't stop the smirk forming on his lips.
There we go baby, take it all for me.
He adjusts just slightly with each grind of his hips until he finds that one spot that makes you whimper. And then he presses against it, again, and again, and again.
Oh, how he relishes in the shivers of your body, the gasps escaping your lips, the beads of sweat rolling down your neck, the clench of your pussy as he holds you still against his lap, forcing you to accept the pleasure, even though he knows he's holding you on the edge of bliss for longer than you would like.
"Good girl, taking me so well," he praises, his voice low against your ear, trying to stop his own breath from heaving, lest you know you could tip him over the edge with one well placed word. "Letting me have you here, where anyone can see us."
The bite of your nails digging into his arms only spurns him on, making his cock throb inside you. He wonders if the marks will still be there tomorrow, something he can admire, something that marks him as yours.
"Driving me crazy in this dress. Lookin' like the hottest fucking thing. Fuck baby, you're so good to me, letting me do this." He knows he's rambling now, but his mouth, as it so often does, is going before his thoughts are connecting. All he can think about is how good you feel, your body pressed against him, anchored by his arms around your waist, your pussy gripping his aching cock as you take all he's willing to give you.
You're so close, he can feel it. Your body is stiff, your nails digging in painfully now, your head leant back against his shoulder, chest heaving, pussy fluttering, whimpering with each slow torturous grind of his hips.
His own climax creeps up far quicker than he's expecting and suddenly he desperately needs to let go. Scrambling to pull your dress up out of the way he presses his fingers against your clit, drawing quick tight circles as you gasp.
He needs you to fall first. He needs to feel what he does to you.
"Cum for me. Cum now," he demands.
Your back arches, your breath catching as you let go of his arms to grip the table, your pussy clenching and fluttering as your climax hits. It's too much and Poe finally lets himself go, burying his moan of satisfaction into your neck, his fingers moving to grip your thighs as you writhe on his lap. He continues to roll his hips slowly, milking every last bit of your climax, savouring each little shiver and whimper until you collapse back against him, boneless.
Even though everything seems hazy around the edges in the post orgasmic bliss, he notices the way your head turns just slightly, checking if anyone has noticed what has transpired.
"Told you nobody would see," he smiles, nuzzling your neck, enjoying the closeness of your body.
"You're lucky," you turn your head to kiss him and his heart jumps. How could there have ever been a time when you thought he wouldn't want you? How could there have been a time you didn't realise he spent every night, cock in hand, thinking about you. How could you not realise he was hopelessly, utterly in love with you?
"I am very lucky," he nods, wishing he could form better words to explain just how lucky he feels. But you're sitting there looking so prettily dishevelled, sweat still drying on your skin, your nail marks in his arms, and he can't think of anything but how much he wants to drag those noises from you again.
"Thanks for helping me take care of that problem." He grins, his hands moving to brush his fingers against the inside of your thighs, slowly inching upwards to where he's still buried deep inside you. "I'll repay the favour later tonight…" he pauses, wondering if you can go again already. "Or now?"
You let out the prettiest noise as his hands creep higher, placing a solitary kiss on your neck. Poe decided that means you need a minute, but he has no intentions of making it an easy minute.
He bites down a groan as his fingers are met with slick wetness, almost halfway down your thighs. Judging by how wet you are, and a small shift of his legs confirms his suspicions as his pants stick to his own skin, there's no way he's moving any time soon anyway.
"I'm sorry baby, but it seems you might have made quite the mess. You're soaked everywhere."
He's about as un-sorry as he can get, his mind already filled with how many more times he can get you to cum before the party is over. How much can you take before it's too much? How many times can he make you whimper? How many times can he make you soak his lap?
You could be stuck here for hours yet, right where you are. The thought makes his cock twitch.
His arms wrap tight around your waist, ensuring you aren't going anywhere anytime soon. He feels you shiver in anticipation as his lips ghost the shell of your ear, a wicked grin forming on his lips.
"I guess you'll just have to sit right there until the party's over."
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Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed please reblog and let me know your thoughts! Remember interactions keep writers writing!
#poe dameron x reader#poe dameron x female reader#poe dameron x f!reader#poe dameron x you#poe dameron smut#poe dameron fanfiction#poe dameron
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Babies shouldn't grow up ☆ Jason Todd & GN!Reader (PT.3)
What does Jason do after feeding and giving a home to the brat he stole from the slums of Gotham? Raise the kid lovingly like he wished he'd been raised, of course. [PART ONE ♤ PART TWO ♤ PART THREE ♤ PART FOUR ♤ PART FIVE ♤ PART SIX]
Pairings: Platonic Jason Todd & Child GN!Reader
In the beginning, living together wasn't very smooth
Despite your shared pasts, the immediate fondness from Jason, your eagerness for affection and love, you two were still very much strangers
You were hesitant and skittish, often sticking to the guest room Jason said it was yours, since for your entire life you mostly lived by yourself
Jason didn't actually know how to deal with a vulnerable and traumatized child, he wasn't Dick, he didn't have an innate charm that allowed you to be drawn to him easily
But that didn't stop him from trying
Every day, Jason made sure to get you out of your room to eat
Breakfast, lunch, and dinner
Eating was non-negotiable, even if you were used to only a bite or two a day, he wanted you to eat what you could
You felt sick for the first few days, your body unused to so much water and nutrients, causing it to think something was wrong
Jason almost went insane with worry, rubbing your back, carrying you around, and even refusing to go out when you told him you were fine
From your vomiting, you were anything but
Despite his fear and anxiety, Jason sat down to google all your symptoms and treatments when you finally fell asleep after throwing up again
Pushing the multiple deadly diseases and cancers aside, he learned that your body was just a little overwhelmed and all you two had to do was increase your meals little by little instead of shoving food down your throat
Though he still insisted on you drinking at least five cups of water every day
Then, maybe a week or two later once you two were a little more comfortable around each other
You not feeling like a bother anymore and Jason not eating himself with anxiety
The two of you started spend more time together
Jason cut some of his vigilante work, told Bruce to fuck off when he was questioned, and made sure to take you out to buy a year's worth of clothing using the old man's credit card
You started clinging a bit to him, asking him to teach you how to read and write, seeking validation when you managed to understand a whole page without needing help, asking about his life and past
And Jason always made sure to be honest with you, about the good and the bad because he wanted you to trust him
From experience, he knew that keeping things from you would only cause problems down the line
He'd tell you about his days in the slums while preparing a meal, you at his hip helping him put things in the pot
He'd talk about being a Robin with both fondness and bitterness while he helped with your hair, having done so much research to make sure he treated your type of hair correctly
He'd confess about what happened with the Joker, keeping it slightly less gory than it was
About his mother and Batman
About his death, hell, the pit, the after
He'd tell you everything as the days went on
And you'd sit by his side, cuddling with him, hugging him close when his voice trembled
Jason's hold would often tighten around you when he talked about something that made him sick to his stomach
Especially when it was a story about almost losing someone
Like he thought you'd disappear even in his arms
Like that, the trust between the two of you only grew as weeks turned into months and soon enough those months turned into a year
Jason had returned to his normal patrol hours once you were finally caught up with your studies and managed to put you in middle school
You were so damn excited and Jason knew exactly why
For a kid who was deprived of seemingly boring things since forever, school is a place filled with knowledge and wonder
The very first thing you did when you got home was show him a drawing of your hero the art teacher asked your class to make
Jason cried when he saw a poorly sketched version of Red Hood
He put it up in the fridge after printing it twice
You two definitely started matching, by the way
Jackets, shirts, shorts, hats, even phone cases
Jason never thought he'd be so lame as to buy stuff like that but once the two of you wore the exact same ugly christmas sweater, it was over for him
It was a little embarrassing, especially for you
But when you two went out with the same jackets and an elderly couple complimented the father and kiddo duo, you couldn't help but love it too
It was jarring for Jason, for sure
He didn't really consider himself your father, maybe your guardian or your older brother, but... it wasn't too bad
No, in fact, he kind of liked it
You are his kid
God, the restaurant dates
He'd take you to every food place in Gotham
From the ones that made you two throw up for the entire weekend
To the ones that made Bruce call him after spending eight hundred dollars on golden lobsters
It would be no surprise if you ended up liking burgers the most though
Like kid, like father
If you had any problem in school, Jason wouldn't try to hide away
He got himself a fake identity for the sole purpose of making himself your guardian through more than illegal terms
Doesn't even matter if he was in the middle of a meeting with other rogues, heroes or even his family
Jason would drop everything for you
Especially when you punched the fuck out of little Timmy for saying something bigoted
The dean and the teacher would probably try to make him scold you, telling the two of to you that this violent behavior is unacceptable and should not be rewarded
And Jason would look at them, at little Timmy's infuriated mother, and tell them that if Timmy didn't want to get his shit rocked, he should've kept his mouth shut
Of course, he also threatened them saying he'd let all of Gotham know that they protected and encouraged bigoted behavior from ten year olds
Needless to say, little Timmy didn't bother you after that day
And you also got ice cream after getting a two day suspension
"Did he make a noise?"
"Squealed like a fucking pig."
"That's my fucking kid."
Jason wouldn't let you act spoiled
Sure, he'd spoil you rotten, give you everything he wanted as a kid and what you want
But he knows the important of humility
That doesn't mean he'll let anyone ever try to bully you, though
To be continued...
#jason todd#red hood#red hood x you#jason todd x gn!reader#platonic jason todd x reader#jason todd x gender neutral reader#platonic red hood x reader#red hood x gender neutral reader#platonic#jason todd x y/n
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A new discovery.
Pairings: Agedup! Aonung x Fem human reader
Summary: It was Aonung of all people you’d expect to do something stupid, well… at least to this extent.
Warnings: MDNI, xenophilia, mentions of drugging, use of sex drugs, bondage, riding, size difference.
꒦꒷❀꒷꒦ ❀✿❀꒦꒷❀꒷꒦DMNI ꒦꒷❀꒷꒦❀✿❀ ꒦꒷❀꒷꒦
How could he have been so stupid, stupid enough to wonder off. Normally he’d never do something like this, especially not while a celebration was happening. He couldn’t help himself he had to get away even for a little while, but wondering into an unknown part of the village was definitely not on the agenda.
He had been knocked unconscious; he could only tell by the slight throbbing in the back of his head. There’s no way this tiny human female could have dealt some heavy damage, enough damn he to know out a fully grown male na’vi.
You stared at the male, watching and waiting for him to wake up because you didn’t want to hurt him. No, definitely not you just wanted to experiment and find out everything you can about them. Him, everything about him.
He was so pretty to you, so attractive from his hair to facial features all the way to his body. You couldn’t help but wonder why lie underneath the loincloth, what could possibly be hiding. You’ve heard stories, of how the Metkayina men are different from the Omaticayan men in some regards, and your curiosity was only at its peak.
You walked around where you had his body bound to the bed, he fit perfectly even while being spread out. Your hands trailed over his arms then over his legs and thighs, but you never went higher than that. Never touched the spot you were so desperately trying to get yourself hands on. Not long after your innocent exploration of his body did the male begin to stir, his eyes dilated, breathing heavy, body so hot as if his rut was due to start.
He felt different, his mind hazy and clouded with only thoughts of fucking into your small human body senselessly. He let out a low growl as he tried and failed miserably to get out of the restraints, just one touch. One little taste of you was all he needed; all his body craved. Your eyes lit up at the disheveled state of the male, your body humming with excitement as your curiosity grew in more ways than one. You were allowed to finally give into your wants and that meant undoing his loincloth to finally get a peek, a taste, anything your body and mind could crave.
“You look so needy.” You whispered softly to him as you tossed his loincloth to the side, your eyes lit. It was very different from anything you had seen or experienced for that matter. Your eyebrows furrowed in interest, your eyes studying his slit before your fingers gently poked around at it. The action itself causing Aonung to grumble lowly from within his chest, his arms tugging on the restraints.
“What’s wrong tawtute? Go ahead, touch it.” His deep gravelly voice filled your eyes just as your eyes found him, your lips jutted out in a small pout, but you obeyed nonetheless, your slide your finger along the slit feeling it, watching it as it began to leak what you presumed to be precum. “That’s it, you want it?” He asked, his tone sounded like playful taunts as you took your time exploring the alien genitalia with a newfound aroused interest. Your touching and rubbing became more persistent as his groans and growls became deeper and louder.
Your eyes widened as his hard throbbing length unsheathed itself from his hiding spot, precum leaking heavily from the tip. The male in front of you was panting and writhing underneath your explorative touches.
Eventually you took the tip into your mouth wanting to taste him, the sweetness of his cum on your tongue had you moaning just as his hips bucked up. A loud groan fell from his lips as you took him in inch by inch until you couldn’t take anymore. “Oh fuck, your mouth.” He forced out, your small mouth around him caused him to throb.
You weren’t sure if he was close, but you refused to take any chances as you freed him from your mouth. Half of his cock was coated with a mixture of your saliva and his precum. You were so fascinated and so incredibly horny? You wanted to fill him buried deep inside you, wanted to know how full you’d feel with each inch of him. You could only ask yourself certain questions like “Would he rip you?” “Would you cum instantly?” “Would be immediately cum from how tight you’d be?”
You rid yourself of your clothes before climbing on top of his body, your dripping entrance placed over his chest for moment. You wanted to untie him, wanted to see how he’d react if he could touch you. He laid still watching you intently as you released him from his restraints, you barely had time to process anything until you felt the tip of his cock pushing past your slick folds and into your pussy.
Your loud moans drowned out the sounds of his groans, for a moment he took his time as he lowered you down. Loving the way your soft gummy walls clung greedily to his length, each little thrust inside had your breath catching in your throat until finally he was bottomed out. Your stomach bulging from just how deep he was.
You felt incredibly full, he felt so good inside you. Without much thought you started moving as best as you could without his help, your hands sliding down to grab ahold is his hands that were secured around your hips. “Fuh…“ you couldn’t even get the words out as your bouncing got slightly faster, his nails digging into your skin as he tried to hold himself back.
The pleasure was so overwhelming his mind was spinning and his little bits of control were slipping. “So tight, so fucking tight around me." He growled out. “Squeezing me so tightly, yet so wet for this dick little one.” Your tight cunt seemed to be squeezing the life from him, yet he wasn’t going to complain, his mind was foggy. All he wanted to do was use you and fill you, hell he wanted to breed your small body. Fill you to the brim with his kids.
With each thrust up into you his control wavered until it finally snapped, his hold on your hips becoming increasingly tightly. The pain of his grip added to your pleasure as he fucked into you roughly now, his eyes trained on the way your stomach bulged each time he filled you with his cock. His cock throbbed wildly at the sight, it only seemed to make his movements faster and harder. Your eyes rolled back as you felt your body convulse from the unexpected orgasm that was forced upon your body.
“That’s it little human, give it to me.” You cried out from the overwhelming orgasm, Aonung loved the way your already tight pussy grew tighter, squeezing him. Thrusting into you became harder for him but fuck he didn’t care he was gonna release his load any second. “Gonna give you my kids little human. Have your belly round with my baby.” He ground out as he thrusted up into you once last time, his orgasm rippled through his body as he filled you up as planned.
After a moment of you coming down from your high you tilted your head slightly to stare at the male, eyes wide as you realized what happened, yet you weren’t mad. “Can we do this more often?”
Taglist: @pandoraslxna @neteyamsoare @hiddensnow1 @criticallybella @sunfyresrider @neteyamsyawntu @tiredmamaissy @headsincloud9 @etherialblackrose @strongheartneteyam @blue-slxt @shit-i-say-shit-i-think @justcaptainnoodles @Neteyamyawne @erenjaegerwifee @oakbuggy @hotdsworld @plooto @itchaboi-itchyboy @luvv4j4ybe11
#avatar#avatar twow#atwow smut#avatar smut#aonung x you#aonung x reader#aonung smut#aonung x human reader#avatar12daysofkinkmas
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Journey
Warning: You guys, this one HURTS. Seriously. Trigger warning for death, grief, sadness.
Proceed at your own risk. And don't yell at me afterwards if you proceeded anyway and this hurt you. You were warned.
----
There’s a bit of dirt on her dress. If she had to guess, she’d say it’s probably Jo’s fault. But she’s Sherlock Holmes’ daughter, so she doesn’t guess. She deduces.
She wets her finger, picks up a crumb.
Rice cake. Raspberry flavour. Jo’s favourite.
She brushes it off. Then she fixes her hair. Checks her shoes.
Anything to delay. Anything to put off this particular journey for a few more seconds.
She meets her own eyes in the mirror. “Come on, Watson,” she whispers. “You can do this. You have to do this. Remember your promise.”
Look out for him, he’d said to her. Before he couldn’t speak anymore. Look out for each other.
Fuck, she’s crying already.
No. She bites the inside of her cheek and keeps the tears in.
She had forty years of parenting. Now she needs to step up. She needs to be strong.
She nods at herself one last time in the mirror, then goes down the corridor to the bedroom door. She knocks, just once. “Are you ready?”
The silence that greets her is ever so slightly sarcastic.
Stupid question, she chides herself. “Let me rephrase. Are you dressed?”
He opens the door. Of course he’s immaculate. The black suit fits him perfectly, and even though age has somewhat diminished his ramrod straightness, he still looks distinguished and elegant without much effort. His face is a study of outward stoicism, and if Rosie hadn’t known him her entire life, she wouldn’t have noticed how much of a strain it is for him to take even a single step.
This is hell for her. She can’t even imagine what it’s like for him.
But she was raised by two British men of a certain age, and public displays of emotion make her as viscerally uncomfortable as it does them, therefore she knows how important it is to him to keep his composure in public.
They did a lot of crying together when it happened. Though quite honestly, it was a relief when it was finally over. The weeks and months prior were pure hell, for all of them. Dad was always a dignified man whose autonomy was important to him. When he refused further treatment, she supported him, and so did Paps.
It’s the circle of life, she knows this. They help you into this world, you help them out of it. You travel together for a time, and then you have to let them go. And it’s her duty to accompany him on this last leg of his journey.
But she has a more important responsibility.
She holds out her hand, and Paps takes it. They help each other into their coats. Paps’ coat is unchanged, and she wonders what he paid for this one. Every time one of his coats gives out, he has one made. With the same red embroidery around the buttonhole.
“Where’s Jo?” Paps asks, the first words he said all morning.
“Mark’s taking her. They’re meeting us there.”
He nods in acknowledgement.
They walk outside. It’s incongruously sunny. It’s cold, and windy, and she’s glad for her coat.
Should it be sunny, on a day like this?
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun, she thinks.
But no. The hard part is that life goes on. That nothing stops even for a second, just because your heart is ashes. Dinner, errands, bedtime stories, maths tests, patients, laundry, paperwork, bills.
Ironically it makes it easier, for her. That she has something to do. That she has somewhere to go. That she’s not in the home they shared alone, staring at the walls, remembering.
“Paps,” she says, turning around, leaning against the car. “There’s something…” she takes a breath. “I wanted to ask you something.”
He makes a gesture for her to continue, but his eyes are on the horizon, and she knows he’s far away, locked somewhere in his mind palace to get through the day.
“Admin is putting a lot of pressure on me to take more hours. Department can’t afford another hire, they need shifts covered, et cetera. And we need the money. But it means I’d have twelve-hour shifts again, and Mark’s rarely home before six. Jo comes home from school at four. That’s two hours I don’t know how to cover.”
He looks at her, uncomprehending. You need to be more clear, she reminds herself. He’s not at his best today. “221A is empty. I thought, maybe…” she trails off, making a ‘you fill in the gaps’ kind of gesture. Then she takes a deep breath and fills in the gaps herself. “I thought you might want to come home?”
He doesn’t say anything for a few moments. He’s watching the horizon with a far away expression. Then he looks at her and gives her a slight smile. “I play the violin at three in the morning. And I sometimes don’t talk for days. Would that bother you?”
“I lived with you for twenty-four years, Paps. I think I’ll be fine,” Rosie says dryly, but she’s biting her cheek to keep the tears in again, because she knows what he’s thinking.
Full circle.
He nods at her, just once. “I noticed little Watson’s maths needs some polishing,” he says, with a trace of his old self shining through. “And quite frankly, her chess skills are appalling.”
“I expect you to turn her into a grand master by the time she’s twelve,” Rosie says, and discovers that it’s, after all, possible to smile.
They both stand in the sun for a second, letting the small glimmer of joy warm them.
Then Paps sighs. “It’s time, isn’t it.”
Rosie nods, and this time, she doesn’t check her tears.
“Should I drive?” Paps asks, gently.
She just gives him a look, and he chuckles. “Fair enough.” He nods at the car, then puts a hand on her shoulder. “Into battle, Watson.”
She nods. Wipes her tears. Takes his hand. “Into battle, Holmes.”
-------
Rosie is quoting a line from Funeral Blues by WH Auden.
I'm not going to apologise for making you sad. I warned you. Remember that before you yell at me in the comments.
May is almost over, you guys. How did that happen?!
Tags under the cut as always, please notfiy me if you want to be taggeed or untagged.
@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @jrow @peanitbear @jolieblack @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @friday411 @givemesherbet-blog-blog @weeesi @thalialunacy @thegildedbee @dapetty @salmonsown
#johnlock#bbc sherlock#may prompts 2024#mayprompts2024#my fic#journey#trigger warning death#trigger warning grief#proceed at your own risk#this will hurt you#you were warned
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Say it
Switchblade Jay White x f reader
Smut
Minors DNI NSFW
Summary When a discreet relationship wants to be made public, Jay has his ways of getting her to agree
I was waiting in the back for Jay to come through the curtain we had been keeping our relationship discreet. I had just taken my dream job and falling for Jay was not part of the plan it never had been. At times it felt like pure madness our attraction to each other, other times it felt like a fairy tale love story. Will stopped by to chat for a moment, bringing Okada with him. We had just finished talking about how great it was that everyone was in the same company again and that it was going to be a few fun years ahead.
They started walking away just as Jay appeared, “What did they want?” opening the door, letting me enter before slamming it. “Nothing just that they’re excited to be working with you in the same company.” His glare both full of fire and ice at the same time. “If they wanted to drop off a fruit basket and well wishes they should’ve waited for me. I think Will just wanted to talk to you again and used Okada as the reason. He’s been after you since the days in chaos” his hand brushing my face, a thumb tracing my jaw. His mood matching what had just happened in the ring, he was in control and not amused.
"I'm going to make something very clear right now, sweetheart . Teach you something you won't forget..."
"You are mine." He ripped off my clothes, aggressively attacking my breasts, biting and sucking on my nipples until I was crying out, my moans filling the room. “These are mine. Your pussy is mine. Your lips are mine." He made his way down my body, licking and sucking over every inch of me, eating into my core, his tongue passing lazily through my folds.
"Say it," he ordered, sucking hard on my clit while he scissored his fingers inside me until I was about to come. Then he stopped, the desperate sound that fell from my lips.
He stood up stripped out of his gear, picked me up wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. I bucked underneath him, trying to slide his dick into me, because I couldn't stand it. I'd never felt this reckless, so out of control. I needed him more than I needed to breathe. He marched us into the shower, my back up against the cold tile, he moved one hand around my throat lightly squeezing my breath catching in anticipation. "If I want to tell every fucking person on this planet about you and I, and what you mean to me, I'm going to do it. Nod your head that you understand." I glared up at him, but I was also a very, very desperate girl. So I nodded.His smugness only fueled my desire .
"Good girl," he murmured, finally slipping the tip of his dick into my core. He still didn't press in though, refusing to give me his long, hard length.”Please," I whimpered.
He laughed almost evilly, before his voice turned soothing and patroniz-ing. "Then say it, Sweetheart . I'll make you come harder than you ever have before.Just say it."
"I'm yours, Jay," I finally murmured, staring up into his gaze.
"And you're going to let me tell everyone about us? You know that I'll take care of you, keep you safe...Right?" I tried to close my eyes and not answer that one, but suddenly he pushed all the way to the hilt, until I felt so full I was sure he was pushing into the entrance of my womb. I shook my head. "Yes, I'm going to trust you," I growled through gritted teeth.
"I'm going to tell everyone," he pressed, rearing back and slamming forward again.
"Yes," I whispered, not caring about anything anymore other than him letting me orgasm.
"Such a good fucking girl," he growled as he thrust into me sharply, setting off an orgasm so intense, the world blacked out for a moment.
When I came back to consciousness, he was still fucking in and out of me, his face determined, his eyes hungry and obsessed.
"I love you," he said as he pumped into me desperately. He removed his hand from my throat then his hand came between us and pressed on my clit, and I immediately spiraled over the edge again as he spilled into me, filling me with so much cum, it seeped down my legs.
"I love you, I love you, I love you," he panted as he fucked me through the pleasure.
He refused to pull out when we were done, gathering me close, letting our juices drip between us. He stared into my eyes, and not for the first time, I wondered if this madness between us was okay. If it was possible for either of us to survive it. Or would it take us over and destroy us. I’d worry about that later as Jay put me down, turning on the water, “Let me take care of you.” as he began to wash my body, before moving me under the water, as he reached for the shampoo washing my hair as he whispered and praised me.
#jay white smut#switchblade jay white smut#aew smut#jay white x you#jay white fanfiction#jay white x reader#aew fanfiction#njpw smut
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Prologue
SexShop!Steve x Reader : SexShop!Robin x OC
Series Masterlist
Series Summary: Steve and Robin have about had it with Hawkins, so on Robin's 25th birthday, the pair decides that there's nothing holding them there anymore and they start packing their bags. The friends move to Chicago and quickly find an apartment to call their own. As luck would have it, Robin stumbles on a no-strings-attached job offer for both of them - what could be better?! Now just to break the news to Steve…. This multi part story will both explore their platonic relationship and their chaotic experience working at the sex shop together as well as their own paths of self discovery as they plant their roots in their new city and finally deal with the invisible baggage they drug along with them when they moved.
Warnings: no warnings...this time. Some non cannon relationships in this AU but cannon themes and Easter eggs a-plenty.
Chicago: Summer of 1993
It's only his 5th trip up and down the steps in the last hour, and Steve has about had it. Being left to haul a car full of Robin's personal belongings and boxes up the three flights of spiraling staircases to their brand new apartment building while she goes off in search of dinner and some help wanted signs seemed like a good idea at the time. It wasn't until he opened the hatch and saw how MUCH she actually packed did he immediately regret his choice to stay behind. He stood there regretting his current situation in an unfamiliar, bustling and loud city while sweat beaded on his hairline and flush spread across his cheeks in the humid June air.
Muttering to himself as he passes a redheaded teen girl carrying a skateboard who refuses to get out of his way on the staircase, he finally pushes his way through their doorway and he's thankful to feel the window unit he threw in first thing after they arrived starting to rev up and cool down the space. Steve repositions the particularly heavy box full of Robin's things on his hip while he reaches over for his cup of iced water setting on the counter and pooling condensation. Desperate for the reprieve, Steve gulps down an extra large sip and attempts to swallow but all sense of relief washes away as something slams into his whole left side. The glass he is holding ricochets down to the ground while Robin's box of nostalgic memorabilia topples over and spills out too. Hawkins High all over the floor.
"Jesus Christ, Robbie, what the hell!?"
Bending over to start collecting all of Robin's teenage memories, the last threads holding her down to a town that didn't love her as much as she loved it - Steve doesn't hear anything she says when she first lifts her fists over her head and into the air in celebration - barely registering that she body checked the boy as she threw open the door.
"Rob. Robbie, what the fuck are you saying? You're doing the thing… " he waves his hand in her general direction.
"Oh fuck, sorry." Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath to regroup, realizing now that she came in making a whole lot of noise and saying not a damn thing at all.
She takes a deep breath and with a gleam behind her eye proclaims "I landed us a job, Dingus!" Both fists jolting upwards into the air again, he now sees the job applications crumpled up in her fists and yielded like torches.
"Dude, gimmie that." Steve says. "You're gonna ruin it before I can even fill it out. We can't start a new job being that unprofessional. Christ… . What are we doing anyway? Gotta be better than that restaurant gig we both bombed before we left Indiana."
"Ok so, yeah, yeah this has the potential to be better than that. Definitely better than Family Video. For sure. And there's no stupid costume like Scoops. God. That sucked. We should pretty much know how to do a lot of it already and the manager seems like he's kinda chill. I told him I don't really know much about the ... uh...topic…but uh…that I'm a fast learner and he said we start on Monday and to bring the paperwork with us." She rambles, motioning to the pages Steve now holds in his hand.
"O-oh kay Robin. Details please. You know them in your head but I don't yet. You-you gotta share."
"Ha! Yeah! Sorry about that, I mean…." while she trails off and starts to fidget, Steve immediately knows there's more to the story.
"Robbie. What are you not telling me? "
"It's called The Hideout. It's on Clark St, just a few streets over. 20 minutes walking - tops."
"20 minutes is doable." he says, and then quips back "Man, don't tell me it's a restaurant. I really didn't want to eat shit at that job all over again. I guess I'll take what I can get so we can at least get on our feet… "
" It'snotarestaurantit'sasexshop!" Robin blurts out in one rushed garble of words.
"I'm sorry, WHAT did you say?" Steve stands with his hands on his hips, looking at her incredulously. "Did you say SEX SHOP?"
Steve is freaking out. He's immediately embarrassed for something he hasn't even done yet. He can feel the tips of his ears going hot and shades of red staining his face and neck in splotches. Are those hives? She's giving me hives, he thinks to himself.
"What am I supposed to tell people when they ask what I do?! What are we supposed to tell the kids back home when they start to call non-stop? What am I supposed to say to my DAD, Robin?" He can feel her mere existance giving him heart palpitations while she looks on at him sheepishly, shrugging her shoulders. All he can do is focus on his breathing so he doesn't blow a gasket on his friend.
Among the myriad of other things this move has going for the pair, Robin sees moving to Chicago as her opportunity to live who she is out loud and finally be free of the confines a small town puts on someone who looks a little different, thinks a little different and loves a little different. Steve, just happy for the fresh start and the chance to maybe do things for himself for once, was not really thinking this is how it would all start out, but looking at the excitement on Robin’s face made him soften just a little.
Now pacing back and forth across the entryway to dispel her nervous energy, she looks on at her exasperated friend and he gives her an almost indistinguishable nod of the head in agreement. She smiles softly at him and says, "Anyway, I distinctly remember you once encouraging me to talk about boobies with you, Steve. Lighten up and get ready for tits, dicks…all of it! I'm ready and this city is my sexual awakening!"
Divider by @firefly-graphics
Taglist: @livsters
#joe keery#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington smut#steve harrington imagine#steve and robin get a job#steve and robin 4l#robin buckley#robin Buckley x oc#sexshop!robin#sexshop!steve#summer in the city#get off!steve#get off!robin#platonic soulmates stobin#platonic stobin#stobin fanfic#steve and robin fanfic#steve Harrington x you
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Text
FRIEND FROM THE PAST
Pairing: Niragi x Reader
Warnings: bullying, fight, smut, sex, unprotected sex (wrap it fellas)
Word count: 1.2 K
Summary: Niragi and you found a way to relieve stress after a game.
Author’s note: I personally love this story! I plan to write a second part about Chishiya taking a liking in you and watch you two fuck.
Nota bene: We do NOT condone Niragi’s actions as we do NOT condone rape! We only love the Dori Sakurada’s interpretation of Niragi. This is fantasies only! You do NOT deserve this! If you are a victim of violence, please get help as soon as possible! You are not alone. Stay safe xx
“When are you going to tell her you’re in love with her?” Last Boss asked Niragi as the armed guy stared at you from the other side of the room.
“I'm not”
“Do you think I’m that stupid?”
Niragi didn’t respond to his friend, his eyes fixated on you. He remembered the first time he met you.
You met Niragi way before all the Borderland bullshit. You two were at the same school. As you were not a popular type of girl, you were not the victim of the constant bullying happening at this place.
As you decided to make a detour before going home after school one day, you passed some boys aiming a guy with a baseball bat. The poor guy seemed frightened to death and was imploring for his life.
“Hey, aim properly!” you heard one of the guy said as everybody laughed.
You never talked to them before that, but you knew who they were. How could you not? They walked around like they fucking own the school.
You wanted to ignore all of this and just go home, but your guts decided otherwise.
“I want to play” you confidently spoke from behind them.
Everyone turned around.
“Get the fuck out of here girl!” one of them stated.
“Come on, it seems fun” you replied.
Some of them were ready to throw you away, but one of them calmly defended you.
“Let the pretty girl have a turn”
He approached you and gave you the bat.
“Milady”
The guy in front of you looked at you with pleading eyes as you took the ball one bully handed you.
Without a warning, you hit one of the guys with the bat as you let the ball hit the ground. You didn’t waste time and attack them all before they had the time to comprehend what was happening. You didn’t need to knock them all unconscious, you just needed to drop them off enough to flee.
You run toward the guy, grabbed his hand and you both began running until you couldn’t breathe anymore.
“You ok?” you asked him as you reached a safe place, far away from all of this.
“Yea- yes… Thank you” he stammered.
“You need to not let them get to you. What’s your name?”
You never left each other after that. You helped him become confident, he provided you the attention you didn’t have at home. Your friendship only grew stronger.
You were hanging out at your secret place one day when you saw the firework. You arrived at Borderland together and never played a game without the other.
That’s why he was so protective of you at the beach. He wanted to protect you like you did with him.
He was ashamed of his past. He didn’t want anyone to know he used to be like the people he calls weak now. He knew you wouldn’t say a thing even if he expressly didn’t ask you to keep the secret. It was not your story to tell.
No one really knew what your relation with Niragi was. You two weren’t together, but no need to say that no one in the entire Beach never dared to flirt with you.
You two trusted each other to death. Some people claimed they saw Niragi risking his life to save yours at a game. For that matter, Niragi refused to let you take part in a game if he wasn’t here. He’d always come with you, no matter the number of remaining days on his visa.
It was after a game that you both decided to upgrade your - from now on - pure friendship.
This game was a mess. Lots of people died in here and to be fair, you weren’t sure how you survived yourself. The ride home was silent, tiring and oppressive.
“How do you feel?” Niragi asked you as he escorted you to your room.
“Stressed out, you?”
“Yeah me too”
“It’s hard to relieve stress in here when you don’t do alcohol or drugs” you pointed.
“I can’t imagine. What’s left?”
“I don’t know. Sex?” You laughed.
The joke was light but the eye contact that follow heavy. And just like that, you had a silent agreement.
“Just for the sex?” you breathed
“Just for the sex!”
You two almost ran out to each other, your mouth claiming his in a shameless kiss. The passion between you was so strong as if you both waited years for it to happen.
Niragi pushed you toward the nearest desk without breaking the kiss before sitting you on it, propping himself between your legs.
His hands were searching your body as if he was looking for some treasure. He knew your soul by heart and was now discovering your body.
He never thought he wanted you in that way, but now that he had you, he couldn’t let you go.
You could feel his hands gripping your hips as his lips travelled down your jaw and neck. You moan quietly as you wrap your legs around his waist, wanting him as close as possible.
He couldn’t take it anymore. He took your shirt off in one swift motion before carrying you to the bed where he threw you on your back and settle on top of you.
His breath was hot against your skin, and you could feel him on your entire body. You felt on fire.
When he straightened himself up to take off his own shirt, your hands found his belt, freeing him off of his pants
You soon found yourself naked underneath him.
“You are so fucking beautiful Y/N”
“Fuck me Niragi” you responded.
Niragi let his head fall on your shoulder, grunting. He could hear you say this to him all day long and never get tired of it.
He needed you. He needed to be inside of you.
Without warning, his fingers quickly attacked your clit, before penetrating you, searching for your sweet spot.
You let out a strangled scream as he found it.
“If this is the sounds you make, I’m going to fuck you so raw Y/N”
You wanted to respond but couldn’t talk anymore when you felt his tip brushing against your sex. The bastard wanted to make you beg.
“Please”
“Yes Y/N? What do you want?”
“You Niragi”
“You have me”
“Fuck me”
Niragi wanted to make you beg, make you suffer for him. But hearing you like that, moaning his name, he couldn’t contain himself. He was about to explode.
In one movement, Niragi buried himself inside of you, groaning loudly at the sensation
“You’re so fucking wet Y/N”
“Move”
“Impatient are we?” he teased.
But he didn’t let you the time to answer as he thrusted inside of you at a hard pace.
The feeling of his skin against yours, his hand gripping your wrists above your head, his mouth nibbling the sensitive spot on your neck, everything was too much but not enough at the same time. What lasted for a few minutes felt like hours.
“Turn around”
You happily obliged, laying on your stomach for him. Niragi didn’t wait to enter you again.
His hard thrusts were already too much for you to handle, but it didn’t get easier when you felt his hand reaching to your clit again.
You cried loudly as his thrusts became sloppier.
The feeling of his shaft ramming inside of you and his hand torturing your clit made you clench around him
“Do that again”
You didn’t have to be told twice as your pussy pulsated around him from the climax that take possession of your body.
He came inside of your cunt a few seconds later, before collapsing on you, both of you tired but relaxed.
#alice in borderland#alice in borderland fanfiction#alice in borderland imagine#niragi#niragi suguru#niragi smut#niragi suguru smut#niragi imagine#niragi suguru imagine
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