#But it would be nice if there was a way to turn down their job offer without being stalked harassed and having an ��accident”
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obedience | part 2
summary: a week ago, you and joel had experimented with a new kink, and it’s been on your mind ever since. you had been too shy to ask to try it out again, but joel always knows exactly what you need.
warnings: 18+, smut, daddy kink, pet play (egregious use of “puppy”, joel teaches you dog commands and refers to your hand as your paw, among other things), d/s and ddlg relationship dynamics, praise kink, degradation/dumbification kink, cockwarming, edging, unprotected piv sex, creampie, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, etc), talk of reader wearing a collar, joel giving reader a bath/washing her hair, hella aftercare, reader has hair and can be carried by joel, implied age gap but reader is an adult, let me know if i missed anything!!
word count: 5.7k
a/n: literally nobody look at me please. this the most self indulgent self insert shit i’ve ever written in my life and if you get it you get it idk what else to say!!! anyway thank you for being patient with me and reading what i write, my big girl job takes it out of me sometimes but that’s what i write this type of shit to deal with <3 nice comments and reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed or if this awakened something in you :)
(read part 1 here if you missed it)
dividers by @saradika
“You want Daddy to train you, babygirl, you wanna be his pretty lil’ pet?”
It had been a week now since Joel had punished you, denied you for acting out over the phone, for disobeying him and sending him lewd photos of yourself when he had explicitly told you to stop. But you hadn’t listened, he wasn’t having it, and when he had returned home from work late that night, he had called you by a new name. Puppy, he had spat at you several times as he made you chase a ruined orgasm on his steel-toed work boot.
The pet name hadn’t left your mind since then, repeating itself over and over, along with his question of if you wanted to be trained, if you wanted to be his pet. The more you thought about it, the more you found yourself becoming desperate for it. Each day in the office was a struggle to stay focused on even the simplest of tasks, your thoughts overrun with fantasies of Joel getting you on all fours for him, giving you commands and praising you for following them, tugging you towards him by a finger hooked into a collar to tell you what a pretty puppy, what a good girl you’re being for him.
You’d left work every evening for the past several days with a damp spot in the seat of your panties, feeling ashamed by how depraved and inappropriate almost every one of your waking thoughts had become. When you would greet Joel at the door all needy and wanting, he would tease you with a “What’s gotten into you, lately, hm?”, but never push for more than you were willing to reveal to him, though he thought he might have had an idea. He would take you to the bedroom and have his way with you the way you liked, the way you had usually craved, before he had turned your world upside down by deciding on a whim to try somethin’ new that fateful night.
Joel would be more than willing to try it again, to follow through with that question he’d asked you, but he decided he was content with waiting for you to come to him, for you to decide when you were ready for him to make you his good puppy once more.
–
The weekend begins just like any other. Joel’s internal clock wakes him up no later than seven in the morning, the sun just barely streaming in through the blinds in your shared bedroom. He tries to keep his creaks and groans to a minimum as he rolls out of bed, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead before quietly padding his way into the kitchen to get a sizable pot of coffee brewing. He lets you sleep for another couple of hours, knowing full and well at this point in your relationship that he has the wrath of your grumpy morning attitude to face if he doesn’t. He does think it’s cute, though, how your face twists up into a pout but your eyes stay scrunched closed if he wakes you up at a time you deem too early.
When Joel does decide it’s a sensible time for the two of you to get a proper start on your generous two days off from the slog of your weekday jobs, he cracks the bedroom door open gently, making his way over to your still-sleeping form. He softly brushes some of your knotted hair out of your face as he places your mug of coffee on the nightstand beside your head, prepared just the way you like it. Whatever happened to good ol’ fashioned cream and sugar? Or just plain black, for that matter? Can’t believe you like it with all this cinnamon vanilla whatever you have me dump in it, he had teased, not long after you had first started sleeping over at his place. Can’t believe you drink it without anything in it. It needs at least a lil’ somethin’ sweet in it, you had bantered back to him, to which he was quick to reply with Got my somethin’ sweet right here, don’t I? before pulling you into his lap and kissing you hard until both of your cups ran cold.
You smile at the memory in your half-sleepy state, slowly blinking your eyes open to see Joel’s warm and familiar smile. “Mornin’, sweet girl,” he says, his grin only growing wider when you greet him back with the cute little squeal that comes out when you stretch your arms over your head instead of an actually intelligible word. “Got some emails and borin’ stuff to catch up on this mornin’, why don’t you just stay comfy and sip on your coffee while you wake up for a bit, hm? Probably be done in time to get lunch together somewhere, how’s that sound?”
“Okay, Daddy,” you reply softly, real words this time, as you push yourself up to sitting while Joel props your pillows up behind you for your back to rest against. You don’t put up much of a fight against the yawn that stretches your jaw, rubbing your blurry eyes as it does.
“Alright, gimme a kiss, sleepy girl. Enjoy your creamer with a splash o’ coffee,'' Joel taunts through a chuckle. He presses his lips to yours, and his coarse beard tickles the skin around your mouth, making you giggle. The smile hasn’t completely faded from your face by the time he slips out of the bedroom to head into his office, shutting the door gently behind him.
Extending a hand down to your nightstand, you hook your fingers through the mug’s handle and slowly bring it up to your face, careful not to spill any. He’d chosen your favorite Daddy’s Girl mug, the phrase written in bold pink text curved over a little illustration of two blue daisies. You always thought your coffee tasted a little better from this mug, somehow. Taking your first sugary sweet sip, you think the sentiment is as true this morning as it’s always been.
–
A little while later, when you feel somewhat more awake thanks to plenty of caffeine and sugar working its way through your body, you finally force yourself into comfortable clothes different from the ones you slept in. With your hair sufficiently tamed, face washed, and teeth brushed, you decide now’s as good of a time as any to try and act on the plan you’d been concocting over the past couple of days, waiting for a moment just like this to pounce on.
You still felt too shy to bring it up to Joel, to tell him how badly you’ve been wanting him to treat you like his little pet, and go even further with it this time. You know he’d never judge you for it, and he had seemed to like the experiment just as much as you did. But something about your little fantasy still felt taboo and shameful, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to use your big girl words and ask for it.
Though, you had finally realized, maybe you didn’t have to ask for it. Maybe you could quietly tip toe into his office one lazy Saturday morning and sit at his feet, nuzzle into his thigh until he brings a hand down from his keyboard to scratch behind your ear, asking you What’re you up to down there, babygirl?
And that’s exactly where you’ve found yourself now, answering his question with a dreamy whimper, leaning into his touch as the feeling of his fingers on your skin makes you smile so blissfully, wiggling on your knees.
“What’s got you feelin’ so snuggly this mornin’, hm? Just need some lovin’ from your Daddy?” he asks in his still-rough morning voice, gazing down at you affectionately.
“Mmhmm,” you hum, wrapping your arms around his calf and rubbing your cheek against the soft leg of his sweatpants.
“Alright, lil’ thing. Just got a couple more emails to take care of and then I’m all yours, promise.” He removes his hand from your scalp to start typing again, and you pout in protest.
Joel shoots a stern look down to you. “Poutin’ don’t typically get us what we want, now does it? Be patient, sweetheart, just a few more minutes.”
You release another upset noise, louder this time, and then he’s pushing his rolling chair back, your grasp around his leg coming apart as he does.
“Came in here actin’ so good and sweet, where’d this bratty girl come from, hm? If there’s somethin’ you want, gotta use your big girl words and ask for it, you know that,” he scolds, his expression becoming more serious.
You hadn’t meant to elicit this reaction from him at all, and it causes your eyes to well up as you stare at the carpet, avoiding his gaze. Opting to answer him with just a shrug, you fidget with your fingers in your lap to distract yourself from the sting behind your eyes. You do attempt to open your mouth and make your desires known to him, but think better of it, and any big girl words you did have swirling around in your brain are replaced by yet another half-hearted little whine.
A whine that sounds… a little familiar to him.
“Oh, I see…” Joel muses, a little less authority in his voice as he assumes a more relaxed position in his desk chair. “I think I know what’s goin’ on here.”
You look up to meet his eyes, tilting your head in confusion. The action prompts his lips to tug into a knowing smile, and he leans forward in his seat, making a beckoning motion with his hand. “C’mere, baby. Between my legs.”
You obey immediately, crawling towards him to close the small distance between you, settling in a kneeling position between his spread thighs. “Good girl,” he praises, and the words make you beam as he cups your chin, the moisture that had been blooming along your water lines now forgotten.
“Think I know why my sweet girl ain’t usin’ her words with me this mornin’...” Joel says, scratching at the soft skin under your chin with his fingertips. You can’t help but lean into his touch, lashes fluttering, and it’s enough to confirm his suspicions.
“Reckon it’s because puppies don’t know to, hm? They just whimper and whine for attention from their Daddies cause they don’t know how to talk, ain’t that right?”
You let out a pathetic little noise when he finally says the word, the one that’s been dampening every pair of panties you own for the past week, but that you’d been too scared to ask to hear again. But you were right after all, you didn’t have to ask for it, because Joel always knows just what you need, somehow.
He uses his grip on your chin to nod your head up and down for you, and continues talking down to you in that gravelly tone of voice that makes you feel like you’re about to melt straight through the floor. “Yeah… ‘F you wanna be Daddy’s lil’ puppy this mornin’, tha’s alright with him. Figured you oughta be missin’ it by now, seein’ as how you liked it so much the first time around…”
You’re barely processing what he’s saying, your lips slack and eyes unblinking as your cunt releases little pulses of slick into your panties. Something about Joel seeing through you so clearly, calling you out on your newly discovered kink and using it to pull you hard and fast into this familiar saccharine headspace, has your whole body burning hot with arousal.
“And if I know one thing about puppies, it’s that they need some trainin’, don’t they? ‘Specially impatient ones like the pretty thing I’ve got sittin’ at my feet. Don’t you agree? Don’t speak, just nod, babygirl.”
It’s unusual for him to request a nonverbal response, as opposed to a Yes, Daddy, but you’re grateful for the change as you allow yourself to fall deeper into your role. You give him what he asks for, a couple of eager nods in quick succession, even though you aren’t quite sure where he’s going with this yet.
“Asked you twice to be good and patient for Daddy, and all I got was poutin’ and whinin’ instead, didn’t I? Think my lil’ pet oughta learn her first command today: Wait. Because good puppies know how to wait for their treats, don’t they, sweet girl? Again, just nod for me.”
And you do, slower and with a little more guilt in your expression this time. But despite him making you admit to your disobedience, you’re not sure you’ve ever been more fucking soaked than you are right now. You’re throbbing, aching, shifting on your knees in an effort to get even the smallest bit of relief. You think you might be releasing little whimpers, but you can’t be sure, already feeling so floaty and far away from just his words alone.
Joel spots your desperate movements, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He shifts in his chair, adjusting for his own arousal, and gets an idea.
“On second thought… Got another command I might like to teach you first. Somethin’ a lil easier for that dumb puppy brain of yours to understand, hm?” He tilts his head at you, lips curved into a mocking pout.
Your eyes flutter and roll to the back of your head involuntarily, his degradation prompting the instinctual response from you. Another syrupy slow nod lets him know you’re ready to learn, to obey to the best of your ability.
“Alright, sweet thing. When I say paw, want you to put your hand right on my knee here, ‘kay?” Joel explains, patting his muscled leg for clarity. “Paw, baby, gimme paw,” he coos at you, his tone not dissimilar to the one he uses to speak to actual dogs.
Forcing your brain to work through the dense cloud of submission that shrouds it, you lift your hand and place it on his knee, just like he had demonstrated. His enthusiastic reaction to your obedience startles you at first, but you break into a beaming grin when you see the proud expression he wears.
“Good girl, tha’s a good girl,” he praises, scratching at the top of your head and ruffling your hair. Using his touch as a distraction, Joel places your paw over his hardening bulge with his unoccupied hand, the thick shape of him prominent through his thin sweatpants. He tightens his hand on top of yours, prompting your fingers to squeeze him. He guides your hand into massaging him for a second or two more, long enough for your melted puddle of a brain to connect with the nerve endings in your fingers. Your breath hitches when you realize what it is you’re feeling, your blissed-out expression morphing into a more desperate, wide-eyed one as you focus your attention to the movement of your hands.
“Yeah, feel that, sweet girl? Feel what you do to Daddy by bein’ so good for him?” He prompts, and your thighs squeeze together as you grope him. You can’t help but draw your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down on it to stifle the needy whimper that threatens to escape.
“You wanna sit on it, pup? Hm? Wanna keep Daddy’s cock nice ‘n warm while he finishes up his work?”
Your aching cunt squeezes around nothing at the premise, and you nod so hard it makes you dizzy. You move to push yourself off the floor and stand up, but a firm hand on your shoulder stops you.
“Ah ah, gotta use your words this time. Speak, baby,” Joel commands, and it takes you a second of searching to find the ability to do so again.
“Y-yes, Daddy, wanna s-sit on it…” you answer softly, and you’ve never heard your own voice sound so wanton. It comes out in a pitch that you almost don’t recognize as your own, featherlight and dreamy and desperate all at once. The need in your voice alone is enough to satisfy him.
“Good girl, just learnin’ all kinds o’ tricks today, aren’t we? Trainin’ you so well… C’mon up here, babygirl,” he permits, and uses his big hands and sturdy forearms to assist you in your awkward and eager climb into his lap. “Take it out, baby, get your treat.”
You whine as you situate yourself atop his thighs, tossing your head back with a dramatic flair, overwhelmed and frustrated by all he’s been asking of you. You just wanted him to turn your brain off, to praise you, to not have to think while he plays with you however he wants, and instead all he’s been doing is asking you to listen, sit, speak, obey. But of course, you should know better by now, that Joel likes making you work for it, to wait for it.
“Hey,” he scolds, grabbing your face and pulling your head forward from where it had flopped between your shoulder blades. “You were doin’ so well, bein’ such a good, obedient girl. Don’t start actin’ up on me now. Could always change my mind, not let you have your treat after all. You want that?”
“No, Daddy…” you admit, your words distorted through the way your cheeks are squished together. He’s not using much force, just enough to keep your focus on him.
“‘S what I thought… Go on then, pup,” Joel commands, and you make quick but clumsy work of freeing his already leaking cock from the loose confines of his sweatpants and briefs. He lets go of your face in favor of placing both of his hands on your hips, lifting you up while you pull your loose shorts and panties to the side, maneuvering his length to just barely prod at your wet little entrance. You flit your eyes from where the two of you meet back up to meet his gaze, hesitating while you look to confirm your permission one last time.
“Sit, puppy,” he says through a smirk, and you release a sharp whimper as you sink down onto his cock.
On instinct, you bury your face in the warm expanse of skin between Joel’s neck and shoulder, rolling your hips back in preparation for a satisfying buck forward. His grip on your skin turns iron, holding you in place and preventing you from chasing after your pleasure.
He cuts off your pout with a strict, “I say you could move?”
“Mmph– No, Daddy,” you mumble into his firm muscle.
He huffs a mocking breath through his nose. “Really are jus’ a dumb lil’ thing for me, ain’t you? You already forget what you’re ‘sposed to be learnin’?”
“‘M sorry, Daddy–” the embarrassment from his demeaning words makes you squirm, and his grip on you becomes bruising.
“Don’t need you to be sorry. Jus’ need you to listen. You’re gonna wait like a good girl ‘til I say you can start grindin’ that messy lil’ puppy cunt on me. We clear?” he orders, his deep baritone traveling straight from your ear to your needy core, the dark thatch of hair at the base of his cock already damp as a result.
You hug yourself closer to him, little fingers clawing at his t-shirt in an attempt to ground yourself, and nod meekly.
“Speak,” he spits again.
“Y-yes, Daddy, clear…”, you whine, managing to lift your head up just enough for your voice to come out a little more coherently.
“If I let go so I can finish up my work, you gonna behave and hold still for me?”
You don’t seem to have a choice, but you agree, anyway. “Mhm, yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl. Now wait,” Joel instructs.
You aren’t sure how much time passes, the incessant clicks and clacks of Joel’s keyboard and mouse becoming more and more irritating with each passing second. Those sharp mechanical sounds, the vibration of his chest against yours whenever he clears his throat, the feeling of his pulsing cock as it splits you in two, it’s all so fucking much. You can’t help but release little whimpers and whines, pathetic pleases and Daddys that he either shushes or chooses to ignore. Any slight movement you make in an attempt to relieve some of the ache, he just responds to with a coo of wait, pup, and the tone of his commands as you twitching, clenching around him, soaking his cock more and more. It has to have been at least fifteen or twenty minutes by now, and at this point you’re sure he must be clicking around his desktop aimlessly just to drag out your training a bit longer.
Eventually, the noises stop, and Joel breathes a sigh as he replaces his large hands on your hips, their touch much more gentle this time. You lift your head from his shoulder to face him, wide and watery doe eyes frantically searching his face for a sign that the wait is over, that you’ve finally earned your treat.
He grants you a soft smile, lifting a hand and using it to just barely grasp your chin, tilting your head side to side as he admires you.
“Got such a sweet girl in my lap, don’t I? Knew she could be good, just needed a lil trainin’ hm?”
You nod, already feeling so overwhelmed that your mind has started to drift elsewhere, to the relief you’ll hopefully be feeling in just a few minutes, after he’s finished toying with you.
He releases your chin, ghosting his hand downwards along the column of your throat, stopping when his thumb and fingers are resting on the tops of your collarbones. He doesn’t apply any pressure, just admires the placement of his hand for a moment, then hums.
“Neck would look so pretty with a collar wrapped around it, don’t you think, pup? With a lil’ heart-shaped tag danglin’ from it, engraved with my name so everyone knows that you belong to me? That you’re my puppy, hm?”
Fuck.
The sentiment alone, the domination and ownership of it all, has you crying out your most pathetic noise so far this morning, eyebrows peaked with need as you bite down on your lip so hard you think you might’ve drawn blood. Joel predicts your reaction, clamping down on your hip with his other hand to stop you from moving before he’s decided you’re allowed to.
Again, you nod, willing to agree to anything and everything he wants from you if it means you’re getting closer to getting what you want from him, what you need.
“Say it, baby,” Joel demands of you, his voice calm but commanding.
You tilt your head at him, humming a confused little noise, but he doesn’t elaborate. “Say it, c’mon,” he repeats. Your foggy brain is on a second or two delay, but it catches up eventually, and you realize what he wants to hear.
“I’m y-your… ‘m your puppy,” you say, softly, your voice tinted with embarrassment.
“Wha’s that, sweetheart? Didn’t quite hear you. One more time for Daddy.”
You swallow hard, inhaling a shuddering breath before repeating the phrase a little louder, with a little less control. “I’m your p-puppy, Daddy. I’m your puppy, ‘m Daddy’s–”
“Yeah, y’ are, fuck.”
He moves his hand from the base of your neck back to your hip, and uses his strong grip to hold you still while he begins a series of sharp but rewarding thrusts in and out of your swollen cunt, each one seeming to hit deeper and deeper inside you. Falling against him once more, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and bury your face into him while you let him fuck into you like a doll. His movements are quick and desperate as he growls an incoherent string of filthy praises in your ear, his words accompanied by the sloppy wet sounds of skin on skin.
“Perfect girl, Christ, tight lil’ puppy pussy feels so fuckin’ good, always feels so fuckin’ good. Such a good girl, such a good goddamn girl for Daddy.”
The harsh bounce of your body in his lap jostles every last one of your thoughts from your brain, and he relishes in the animalistic cries and yelps you mumble into the flesh of your upper arm, now damp with your drool. He must feel the moisture as it pools underneath your face and wets the thin fabric of his t-shirt, because then he’s laughing at you, spewing more obscene words at you as he spears you up and down on his cock.
“Shit, are you fuckin’ droolin’ on me, sweetheart? Got this messy cunt and that pretty mouth both soakin’ me, Christ. This cock make you that dumb, hm? You Daddy’s dumb puppy?”
You are, you both fucking know you are, so you agree and repeat it back to him to the best of your fucked-out ability because you know it’s what he wants to hear. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to hear it too, the self-degradation lighting your whole body on fire as some of that heat forms itself into a tight ball in your tummy.
Joel’s hips begin to stutter, his hold on you starting to falter, complete sentences turning into sharply whispered expletives as he nears his orgasm. He can feel you squeezing around him, notices the telltale sign of your muscles tightening and your breathing coming out in short bursts, and uses that four letter word against you one last time.
“Not yet, babygirl, don’t you fuckin’ come for me, not ‘til I say. Wait,” he spits through gritted teeth.
You were so ready, just teetering on the edge of your orgasm, all you needed was a few more jackhammering thrusts and you’d be careening down the steep cliff of it. It takes everything in you to hold it in, to not let go. But you’ve been so good for him, and Joel doesn’t have it in him to torture you much longer, and he permits you to finish just a few minutes later.
“Alright, come, puppy, come for Daddy,” he orders, and you spasm in his lap with a debauched cry, that ball of heat in your tummy dispersing through your bloodstream, igniting every one of your nerves and sending sparks flying behind your eyelids. He reaches his high at the same time, spilling his release inside of you the way you both like.
It takes a few moments for the both of you to come back into yourselves, heaving chests eventually matching each other in a more relaxed rhythm. Joel softly scratches at the back of your head while you place delicate kisses mindlessly along his neck and up behind his ear.
“You were so good, sweetheart. Always take everything I give you so well,” Joel quietly praises next to your ear. He touches his lips to the side of your head, then your temple, then gently maneuvers your face so that he can press a final kiss to your forehead. Your eyelids flutter open in response, and your lips tug into a sleepy grin as you focus on his face. “There she is, my beautiful girl.” He sweeps a few tangled locks of hair away from your face, and even though you know you must look like a mess, you let him admire you anyway.
“Still up to go out for some lunch? After we get ourselves cleaned up ‘n all,” Joel asks, shifting his gaze down to where his spend leaks from you, staining both of your clothes a darker color and dripping onto the fabric of his desk chair.
You pause, chewing on the inside of your cheek for a bit before shaking your head.
“No? Tha’s alright, sweet girl, don’t blame you one bit. You’ll still let Daddy get you cleaned up though, won’t you sweetheart? How’s about I run you a bath with some o’ that new flowery bubble bath you just got, hm?”
You light up at the premise, nodding eagerly, and Joel flashes his handsome smile at you in return. “Alright, hang onto me, baby,” he says, and you wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders as he scoops you up and carries you to the bedroom, his softening cock still nestled inside you. The two of you detach when he sets you down on the small, handmade wooden bench adjacent to the tub, and leaves only for a moment to retrieve your favorite pink blanket from the living room. He wraps it around your shoulders when he returns, and starts the bath for you. He makes sure to squeeze a generous amount of the bubble bath into the roaring stream of water, ensuring that the bath is sufficiently fragrant and relaxing.
When the tub is full, with mounds of white soap bubbles threatening to spill over the smooth porcelain walls, he helps you strip out of your clothes, tugging your bottoms down your legs as you remove your own top over your head. Joel offers you one of his hands to steady yourself with as you step into the bath and lower yourself into the steaming water. It feels perfect, because just like he knows exactly how you take your coffee, how you want to be fucked without you having to ask, he also knows the almost-too-hot temperature of bathwater you prefer.
He allows you to wash your own body, while he uses the cup you keep by the tub to douse your hair with water, using his rough fingertips to massage your favorite coconut shampoo into your scalp. You’re almost done scrubbing yourself by the time he’s raking conditioner through your damp ringlets, and then he’s rinsing you clean, the humid air in the room now smelling like a dozen different flowers and fruits, all of them mixing together to smell definitively like you. It’s his favorite scent in the whole world.
You don’t exchange many words during your bath, mostly enjoying the intimacy of the activity in silence. The action alone is enough to let you know how deeply the two of you care for each other, how much you trust and love each other.
When the water eventually runs cool, Joel helps you out of the slippery tub, and wraps you in one of your plush bath towels, a lighter shade of pink than your blanket, but just as soft.
“I’ll let you finish up in here, and I’ll see about orderin’ us some delivery, hm? I’ll get you whatever you want, and we can throw on a movie to watch while we eat, how’s that sound?”
“Sounds good, Daddy,” you reply, the bath leaving you feeling refreshed and more like yourself, able to find your voice again.
You settle on ordering your favorite fast food, and it arrives shortly before you tiptoe your way into the living room, your wet hair now pulled up into a clip while the rest of you is dry and comfortable, wrapped in a soft lounge set and your cozy blanket.
“There she is, the Poky Lil’ Puppy,” Joel teases, removing your containers of chicken tenders and fries from the plastic bag they arrived in, setting them on the coffee table in front of the couch.
You giggle at his quip, settling down on the cushion next to him. “I’m not… poky, or whatever,” you reply, in a tone of voice that isn’t sure if you’re supposed to feel complimented or offended.
He looks at you in minor disbelief for a second, then moves his head and brows in a gesture that suggests something like touché. “It’s the name of a kids’ book. Written a lil’ before your time, I guess.”
“Oh… I’ll take it, then.” You settle against Joel’s warm, sturdy form as you munch on a fry, watching the TV screen as he flips through the most promising of the half dozen streaming services he’s subscribed to. “You know…” you start, but let the rest of your sentence drift away, not sure if you want to continue.
“Yeah, babygirl?” he replies, and it encourages you to finish your thought.
“I really liked, um… what we did today. Earlier,” you continue, doing your best to push through your shyness in an effort to get better at communicating your desires with him.
Joel pauses his browsing, putting the TV remote on the table so he can meet your eyes. “In my office, you mean?”
You can’t help but smile cheekily at the memory. “Yeah… I really like being called… that, I think. And if you don’t think it’s too weird–”
“Course I don’t, sweetheart. Would never judge you for likin’ what you like. If it makes you happy, makes you feel good, if it ain’t hurtin’ anyone, then there’s nothin’ wrong with it, baby.” Joel’s turned his upper body to face you now, to make sure you understand the sincerity of his words.
You smile, and his reassurance gives you the confidence to continue. “I really like that… collar idea,” you admit softly. “Maybe we can try that next time.”
He tucks his tongue into the pocket of his cheek, his face forming into a satisfied expression. “Thought you might. Keep bein’ Daddy’s good girl, he just might get you one. Maybe a matchin’ leash, too, somethin’ to tug on when I need you to listen.”
Your eyelids perform their involuntary flutter, a quiet whimper escaping your lungs at the thought.
“Alright, settle down now, baby,” Joel says through a chuckle, shaking his head before kissing the top of your head affectionately. “Got all the time in the world to try whatever we want. Just focus on eatin’ your lunch for now, sweetheart.”
You snuggle up close to him after he starts the movie you both decided on, happily eating your salty and savory meal as you watch. For the rest of the afternoon, you feel warm and satisfied for a few different reasons, the most important one due to how grateful you are to have Joel.
He takes care of you, understands you, and loves you like nobody else ever could. And it’s mornings like these that make you especially aware of that fact. You’ll be his good girl for as long as he wants you to be–forever, hopefully–and he’ll always give you exactly what you need in exchange for it.
Even if that something might be a collar with his name on it, fit for his perfect little puppy.
tag list (no pressure if this one isn't your thing!!) @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw (if your name is crossed out it won't let me tag you!!)
#my writing#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x you#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#daddy!joel miller#joel miller smut
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love languages
gojo satoru
recieving: words of affirmation/acts of service. he's completely fine being far away for a long periods of time, him being the strongest takes a lot. however, he greatly appreciates direct attention to his persona, and not necessarily in a sexual way. i'd say, expecially not in a sexual way. he feels loved when you talk your literal worst thoughts to him, when you express everything that goes through your mind. the most non-judgemental person one could ever met, he would never blame someone he loves for some dark thoughts, he's all here for it. he likes when you tell him directly how much you care, and even if it's worded quite rough, he'll still take it. that way he feels like he means something. he'll never feel enough of your thoughts, and of course, he won't ever be satisfied with how much you praise him. however much, he always craves more. he also appreciates every litlle thing his loved ones do for him. it might look like he doesn't notice sometimes, with him acting this nonchalant. but knowing how perceptive he is, he really does notice everything.
giving: physical touch/acts of service. he's very touchy, sometimes it feels like he needs to touch more than he needs breathing. he literally explores the world with his fingerpads. it's his first instinct - to hug, when you feel bad, to kiss to make it better. he's just as innocent as a child when he expresses his love through touch and without thinking. he will kiss the pain away, he will do your hair and hold your hand - honestly, he's the sweetest when he does such things out of heart. he also enjoys helping his love ones out whenever he can - granted, he's often away, but he does what he can. he rarely complains about chores in his home, in some way he even loves to do them. makes him closer to the ones he loves. he's very simple in that sense, he enjoys simple things in life. do not tell him he's the strongest. he knows that already. however, you might hug him and say that you're so grateful he did the dishes today - and he will be so happy, he'll do them more often just to hear you saying it every time.
geto suguru
recieving: quality time. he feels loved when he feels welcomed, when someone wants his company. moreover, he himself is very social, caring person, who does poor job at being alone. he loves people, loves to spend time with his loved ones, it comes natural to him to care about his family and friends - he's not a loner at his core. so even when alone time are needed of course, in his case, he really lights up from inside when someone is seeking for him to specifically spend some time together. he doesn't really care how you will spend this time, you needing him and standing by his side is what matters to him. call him after midnight - and he will always pick up that call and join you wherever you want. he will be by your side at your grandma's party laughing at her stupid jokes, he'll go shopping with you. he'll help you with laundry and taxes. he will never ever turn yhis loved ones down, no matter how boring or stupid you think the whole thing is. just show him that you really want him near you.
giving: words of affirmation. he's so good, it's unfair. he has this natural talent of finding the right words. he's also great with timing, he reads the room perfectly (probably the second best). there's no such thing as 'i didn't mean to say that', he only says what he has carefully thought of. likes to give instructions, it's one of his ways to show that he cares. very verbal and talkative, when in his natural habitat. he's generous with his praise, he believes in letting people now how good they are (if he really thinks so). and even if not, he will always find something to say to you. such a smooth talker, he will now every one of your secrets without you realising. not to mention he's like an ariel the little mermaid with his sweet soothing voice, it's just nice to hear him saying things.
nanami kento
recieving: quality time. goes without any saying, he values quality time above all else. he too feels very loved when someone seeks his presence. unlike geto, he's doing way better by himself and he's really fine being alone, it's just that he prefers not to be alone (even if he states otherwise). sometimes he finds it amusing, because he often is so tired, he has no fun activities to offer, therefore he's wondering why even seek for his company. sometimes he may think of himself as too stern or even boring, he has some insecurities. but he's very happy, when you express that you want to spend some time together, he's subconsciously waiting for it. he's very unassuming and he never like... expects you to want to spend time with him. so when that happens, he's ready to do whatever, just so it lasts longer.
giving: quality time/physical touch. he just kinda wants to be near his loved ones all the time, can you blame him really. he's very chill with quality time, but sometimes he wonders if you get annoyed with him. like you know when you want to spend time with someone and at some point you'd be like okay that's enough i need some alone time - well, never happens with him. he fears to look desperate so much, he's always so quiet. like there's no possibility to get tired of spending time with him, because most of the times it's just existing in the same room, and that's enough. very laid back and casual, his whole presence if very relaxing and calm. physical touch is very sweet and comforting too - like sleeping together on a sofa on a rainy day, holding you by the shoulder when going through the crowd. it's more out of wanting to protect rather than something else.
fushiguro toji
recieving: words of affirmation. i'm actually very sad about him, his relationship with affection is rooted in such tragedy. he needs praise more than he's willing to admit. of course, him being traumatized to the core plays a crucial role in it; he'd never heard that he's doing well, that he's good. anything that is not insult or a joke in some way. i think he could get burned once or twice because of how easily he could be manipulated. he's actually very wary of people being kind to him, but he can't fight himself when it's somebody being parcticularly kind to him and being verbal with this kindness. it's his vulnerable spot, and he can't do anything about it, falling for it every time. for instance, his first wife was very good with her words, bringing him comfort and safe place withing her company. he very much needs the praise and insctructions how to do... basically anything in his life. not because he's helpless, not at all. but because that's what love is to him, to care enought to let him know what to do, and when he does it, telling him he was good. it's insane to witness what it does to him, how visibly happier he looks.
giving: acts of service/quality time. he does everything he can, that's it. what he doesn't know how to do, he'll learn. he's great with predicting what you need, the absolute best at reading the room quickly. for instance, he rarely needs to know your face expression to know that you're mad (not necessarily at him), he knows it by the way your feet stomp on the floor (yet another oh so useful skill from a loving former household). he prefers to prevent the explosion than to deal with it. he has a mental list what he can do to make you feel better. it's almost like he proves himself every time (and it's a rather sad view, especially at first). with time he relaxes. when he's not in his proving mode anymore, he still helps whenever he can, but in a more chill way. that's when his wish to just spend more time together comes. usually it's just coexisting, but sometimes he'll think of few ways to make time more fun and exciting. he's willing to spend some money on a fancy place from time to time. and he can be surprisingly creative.
ryomen sukuna
recieving: quality time. never the one to miss the opportunity to learn something new, he's actually a great companion for a good talk or sparring (not recommended, in this case you might end up dead). while he's good being all alone, he genuinely enjoys a good company. he won't seek for one himself, but he's willing to accept the offer. surprisingly, he has a lot to give, you just need to find the right words. he's extremely intelligent (probably the most out of all), and he expects from his companions the same level of intelligence, otherwise why bother? he knows a lot about art and culture, he pays his respects to literature and especially poetry. you can always learn something new from him, and he likes when someone listens to him, like actually listens and takes everything he says to heart. when in a mood, he's up for a debate: if you can handle it, he'll be amused and even glad. as long as you are interesting to him, you're fine. he doesn't like boring stuff, that's what you need to think about. the thing is, he's not the one to waste his time on someone he doesn't treasure in one way or another, so when he does accept an offer to spend time together, it already shows his rather warm feelings towards you.
giving: gift giving/words of affirmation. because of his appreciation for culture, everything he gifts is carefully thought of and has it's meaning. if he chooses to gift something, let it be the best. he won't give such treasures to anyone, he saves it for the ones he respects (basically the equivalent of care in his mind). be it some book, weapon, clothes or some art piece, it truly means something to him. and because of his erudition, he expects you to understand everything he wanted to say with this gift. it really is some sort of language to him, you can say so much without saying anything. he likes to hear your opinion on them, he expects you to discuss them with him later. another thing, while he doesn't like to express himself verbally that much, he's actually good at doing it. he's generous with praise, it's more of a deserved-not deserved case to him. becuse he's so skillfull and knowleadgeable, he's not insecure in a sense that he'll withhold praise bc he doesn't want to come off as soft. he really doesn't care. in some weird way, he almost wants you to be better than him in whatever field you discuss. so when he feels like you deserve the praise, he will give it to you. and his praise hits just right, even when he doesn't say much.
itadori yuji
recieving: physical touch/gift giving. oh, how much he loves those hugs, i can't even tell you. he loves to initiate them, but the greatest joy of his is when someone he loves does this first. he feels so loved when someone ruffles his hair, fixes his uniform for him, covers him, when he's taking naps. he literally feels warm from the inside. maybe because it reminds him of his granddad and the fact that he's still not alone. he's still so young, going through so much, and he finds that he feels secure when someone holds him really tight. it's like a heavy blanket to him, like nothing bad could happen in that moment. also, he cherishes everything that has ever given to him. no matter how trashy it is, even if it's just a candy wrapper, he'll cherish it, if it's from someone he loves. he enjoys recieving those little sometimes meaningless things. they matter a lot to him. they bring his loved ones closer, like there's some physical evidence this was real.
giving: words of affirmation. while he's great at almost everything, his greatest power is finding the right words for every person he loves. he says everything kindly, easily, in a very lighthearted manner. never ever you will hear him being rude even by mistake. he's borderline unable to hurt anybody with his words, he's just that good. he's not the one to give a long profound speech, he's very simple yet very impactful. his words would have a longlasting effect even without him realising it. never prepares anything he wants to say in his head (as yuta or geto), a force of nature. he doesn't really say much, when he's not blabbering about something silly. in a serious setting he gets noticeably more quiet. not only that, but he really knows when not to say anything. his silence is very telling. he knows how to make that silence soothing and comforting, or deeply uncomfortable, depends on a situation.
fushiguro megumi
recieving: quality time/words of affirmation. he's very simple, he likes to spend time with his loved ones, and he loves hearing them speak (especially about him). he desperately tries to hide that fact though. he wants to be cool and unaffected, but in reality he's very sensible and reactive. he doesn't understand that that's what everyone love about him. so when he gets praised, it's such a fun scene, like you can see he clearly enjoys it, but still tries to act cool about it. he also likes to just hang around people he loves, he never turns down an offer to spend time together (even when he acts like he'd rather be home than here). however, he really likes some meaningful quality time, so if not you, he'll think of some ways himself. he doesn't like doing 'stupid things', it takes a lot to convince him to participate. it's good for him though, it relaxes him a lot more than he's willing to admit.
giving: quality time/acts of service. i'll be honest, he's not very creative with his ways to spend time. he's almost too serious (he has his reasons, obv), so what he suggests is usually 'let's do homework together', something like that. do not turn down that offer - he'll make it really worth it. not only is he a very comforting to be around, usually being the calmest person in a room, he'll also make it a very... nice experience. he'll prepare you the best tea he has, he'll bake you cookies to snack on while studying, he'll bring out the blankets. he'll ask you if you feel comfortable every five minutes, apparently. he'll tell some stories he never told anyone, he'll ask gojo-sensei to light the fireplace, if you feel cold. you may notice that at home even gojo also gets quieter around him - almost everything is much slower and softer. he very much enjoys these peaceful moments. and he likes to share them only with the ones he truly cherishes.
okkotsu yuta
recieving: words of affirmation/physical touch. he needs a lot of reassurance in his life, he really does. and he's not one for subtle gestures, he needs to really feel it - he needs to feel like somebody holds him safe and sound, he needs to hear that somebody understands him the way he is. he has a lot of dark, dark thoughts, and when someone is able to reassure him that these thoughts are normal, that he's still worthy, that even the best of people have something dark in them - that's when he feels appreciated and loved. he lives on praise, and, like gojo, is very openminded. he actually likes to hear everything you have to say to him, even if it's not necessarily good.
giving: words of affirmation/physical touch. has a silver tongue, never slips up. everything in his head is played so well, the words he says are always on point. bc he's so openminded, he can see everything from different points of view, so he comes of as a very understanding. nothing you say can throw him off, he'll listen to everything and he'll say his word. he knows the power he holds, actually, but he rarely uses it, because usually he's just shy. it's more of a last option to him. he saves it for the rare people he treasures the most - like his friends, sensei, etc. - around who he already feels free and appreciated. he much prefers to show his affection in more physical ways. he doesn't necessarily like to hold hands, it takes a lot to him to trust like that, but he can rub someone's back or offer a massage - and he's great at it. he also kinda subconciously usually stands or sits really close, so the shoulders are touching. he also likes to rest his head on your lap, when he's now really close to you. however, he really tries not to make other person uncomfortable, but, to be fair, almost all of his touches are featherlight and completely innocent. it's just a comfortable way to him to express himself.
#love languages in general and platonic way!!#so nonproofread it's not even funny#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk headcanons#jjk x reader#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#geto suguru#geto x reader#jjk general#nanami kento#nanami x reader#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#itadori yuuji#itadori x reader#megumi fushiguro#megumi x reader#yuta okkotsu#yuta x reader#jjk gojo#jjk geto#jjk nanami#jjk toji#jjk sukuna#jjk itadori#jjk megumi
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too sweet
summary: essentially porn with little plot… or .. when her boss decides that letting her go is in her best interests, y/n decides to show him exactly what he’s missing out on.
warnings: swearing, light angst, smut (rough sex, oral m receiving, slight domrry) also don’t ask me how he can receive oral if she’s on the desk ?? it just happened
wordcount: 2.8k
a/n: much like the rest of the world, i can’t stop listening to too sweet :) and to me it has ceorry written all over it!! as always please let me know if you enjoyed!! I really want to start trying my hand at more tropes and aus so please let me know if there’s anything you’d like to see!!!
my masterlist & taglist can be found here 💖 love you
“Mr Styles, I-”
“I promise you, sweetheart. It’s not a set back, it’s just-”
“I can show you, please.” You were begging and pleading like this job hadn’t been draining the life out of you for months now. You knew that Harry was right, but you didn’t want to, couldn’t, accept another failure.
“Listen.” His words were stern but his face was soft as he reached over the table, placing a ringed hand over the top of yours. “It’s not personal. To succeed in this business you need grit. No one ever got to the top without a hint of cunt, me included.”
He held up his free hand as you opened your mouth, silencing you before the words had even begun to form. “You are special. You don’t have that mean streak, and I refuse to be the one to manufacture it within you. I will find a spot in this company for you, shift people around if I have to. You need to find a role that grows with you, not one that will tear you down.”
You nodded slowly, speechless as his words sunk in. How can you be fired for being too nice? Not cunty enough? You tugged your hand away from Harry’s as if it burned you, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “Is this because of the cakes?” you asked, cringing as you thought back to all the nice things you’d done around the office. If you weren’t supposed to be nice, why not put that in the job description? Under requirements: IT skills, maths degree, asshole.
Harry laughed, leaning back in his seat as he grinned at you. “In a way, I guess it is because of the cakes. Just trust me, okay? This is for the best. I’d never forgive myself if I turned you into a monster. Finance is a cut-throat world,” he finished, staring out into the office.
When he didn’t say anymore, you stood up, smoothing out your skirt across your thighs. “Thank you for your time, Mr Styles. I’ll wrap up my work and send it over to you, I assume you won’t need me past lunch?”
“No, that’s all. Thank you y/n,” he smiled, nodding as you turned away.
“Dick,” you muttered, pulling the door closed behind you. You could hardly rant and rave to his face, especially after repeatedly hearing how nice you are, but you were inwardly seething. Treating your colleagues like shit would be a good reason to get fired, treating your clients like shit would be a better one. But to be too kind? You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make sense to you, but it was still downright unfair. You had grit, and you’d show him.
You sat silent and dignified until the office left for lunch, wrapping up with the clients you had and sending the remainder to Harry. No one stayed past lunch on a Friday, so the second the last stragglers left, you rushed to the Harry’s office door. You had no game plan, except for bursting in and proving him wrong. Only, as soon as you were about to reach out and knock on the door, it swung open. “Y/n.”
“I have grit,” you told him, slipping past him into his office. It was all you could think to say.
“I-”
“Close the door please,” you motioned your head towards Harry’s seat, signalling for him to sit back down. He was frozen in the doorway, an amused smirk dancing on his lips. “I have grit,” you repeated, gaze following Harry as he pushed the door closed and circled back around his desk.
“You said that,” he sniggered, loosening his grey tie as he watched you pace around the office. “If I didn’t have grit,” you started, willing something entirely different to come out your mouth, knowing that it wouldn’t. “I wouldn’t mention that I know you spent the entire Christmas party in here with Stephanie. With the door locked. And I wouldn’t mention that I’ve noticed the way you look at me,” you finished, eyes glued to the skyline behind Harry’s head.
His jaw clenched a few times, his hands flexing against the wood of his desk. “Good point,” he murmured, his expression totally unreadable as he looked at you. “Come and sit down.”
You padded over tentatively, fingertips gripping the back of the chair as you pulled it out in front of you.
“Not there.” He pushed his chair back, tapping on the wood between his hands.
“What are you-” you started, gaze darting between Harry’s icy stare and your feet, dragging themselves the short distance to Harry’s desk.
“You came here to show me you have grit, no?”
You nodded, heart in your throat as you perched on the edge. “How were you going to show me?” he continued, his eyes unrelenting in their pursuit of weakness within you.
You knew what your game-plan was, but you weren’t expecting Harry to catch on and call your bluff. His voice was muffled by the blood pounding in your ears, your jaw tight as you tried to remain composed under his watch. He leaned back when you stayed silent, one eyebrow raising slightly as his gaze raked down your body. “What were you going to do, y/n?” he asked again, hooking one foot around yours to pull your legs open.
A tiny gasp falling from your lips was the only sound you made, the tension hanging heavy in the air. Harry reached forward, pushing your skirt up around your hips until he saw a flash of your red panties. “I think,” he started, fingertips trailing down your exposed thigh. “You were going to show me that sweet little cunt, show me what it can do. Am I right?” he continued, satisfied as he looked at the trail of goosebumps his touch had left.
You nodded again, eyes fluttering closed in a bid to expel some of the anticipation creeping through your core. “Use your words,” Harry muttered, tugging on your thighs until you landed in his lap.
You opened your eyes, inches away from his face as he splayed a hand across your lower back. “Yes, sir,” you whispered, a shiver running down your spine. His cock twitched beneath your core at the name, his eyes dark.
“From this moment onwards, anything that happens within these walls is between us. Do you understand?” Harry asked, his voice husky and yet somehow softer than you’d ever heard it.
“Of course,” you replied, hoping your eyes communicated the sincerity that your words couldn’t.
Harry placed his free hand on your hip, pushing you down slightly until his firm cock bulged against your entrance.
“What are you and your grit going to do about this then?” he smirked, his fingertips digging into your clothed flesh. You almost choked on the lump in your throat, eyes bulging as you shifted on top of Harry’s girth. His stare was like a challenge, daring you to retreat or prove yourself wrong. But you’d gone too far to back down now, so you swallowed the first taste of tomorrow’s regret and locked your eyes on his, rolling your hips across his lap before stepping off of him.
You answered his questioning frown by sitting back on your heels between his legs, reaching forward with a tentative hand to palm him over his trousers. Harry let you feel him for a second, before swatting you away to unzip his slacks and push them down his thighs.
From the moment you’d first met him, you knew Harry was objectively hot. He was attractive in the same way a friend’s dad would be - enough to appreciate but too out of reach for it to be any more than that. But now as you stared up at him, the strained fabric of his Calvins tight against the cock he was about to fuck your face with, he was the most attractive man you’d ever seen.
Harry tugged the waistband of his boxers down, only enough to set his length free, grabbing hold of your wrist. “No one is to know,” he growled, waiting for your confirmation before guiding your hand to his length.
“No one, sir,” you murmured, pressing your parted lips to the side of his shaft as he pulled his hand away.
“Good girl,” was all Harry could manage as your pout wrapped around his tip, your tongue swirling across the nerves. You let your saliva drip down him, rubbing it across his skin with an unsteady yet firm hand. It felt dirty, transactional almost as if he might let you stay if you performed well enough for him. But you knew you didn’t want that, and he wouldn’t want you working for him once you’d milked his cock for all it had.
You could feel his eyes on you as you pulled your mouth away from him, your hand still working up and down his length. Your gaze darted up to meet his, the hunger in his eyes unlike anything you’d seen before. He was almost animalistic, something feral juxtaposed in his features as he watched you silently, frozen in place. You willed yourself to look away as you bent further down, poking out your tongue to lick a wet line along his cock, but you couldn’t focus on anything but Harry’s face. Your arousal was pooling between your thighs, a breathy moan tumbling past your lips as you took more of him into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat.
You couldn’t take him all, not even close, so your hands worked at the rest of him, one wrapped around his base while the other found his balls, squeezing them gently as your cheeks tightened against his girth. Harry let out a small groan, his first display of your mouth having any effect on him, his hand instinctively tangling into your hair as if he’d been here with you before.
He used his grip to hold your head steady, directing your mouth up and down his length. His cock was knocking into the back of your throat, your whimpers mixing with groans and splutters, until he stopped suddenly, pushing back in his chair until there was distance between the two of you. You were too much, the sight of your pout wrapped around his tip too much for him to take.
“Up,” he demanded, placing a protective hand over the edge of the desk to save you knocking your head. You pulled yourself up to meet where he stood, resting against the desk to take the weight off your shaky legs. Harry’s thumb swiped across your jaw, his eyes fixed on your face. Your swollen red pout, your heavy-lidded eyes, mascara gathered under your lower lashes. You looked a fucking mess, and he was loving every second of it.
He bent down slightly, fingers slipping under your skirt to hook around the side of your panties. He pulled them off, helping you to raise both feet, before stuffing them into the pocket of his slacks.
“Turn around,” Harry murmured, nodding as you obeyed him. His fingers trailed across your hips, pushing on your back until your stomach hit the wood of his desk.
You let out a whimper as he pressed a hand between your legs, his fingertips dancing across your skin until they met your entrance, hot and sticky and so ready for him. Harry swiped a finger through your folds, a tiny chuckle the only sound he made as you squirmed, his free hand splayed across your back, keeping you pinned down. “Got yourself all worked up f’me, huh?” he drawled, voice so low it sent shivers down your spine.
You nodded, too overcome with need to form any words. Harry pressed into you, collecting your juices on his tip before pushing himself inside, eyes screwed shut as your walls constricted around him. Your whimpers turned into a string of expletives, his girth too much for you to take. “Tight little cunt, all for me,” Harry whispered, stilling inside of you now that he’d bottomed out. His hands were digging into the skin of your ass, your curves engulfing the base of his cock. “All for you,” you panted, desperately trying to find something to grip on to, something to steady you while Harry tore you in two.
He pulled back, mouth hanging open as he watched himself emerge from your pretty pink lips, his length already smothered in your juices. He wanted to resist, to be gentle with you, but your cunt was begging him to destroy it, to instil in it some of the grit you claimed to have. It was between his head and his heart, yet Harry could only think with his cock.
He slammed into you hard, your hips knocking against the edge of his desk, the contents of his drawers rattling as he drilled into you. His office was far from sound proof, and any stragglers left in the building would hear nothing but your cries and screams as he rocked his hips into yours, his cock hitting every inch of you. But that only spurred him on further, the thrill of your pleasure coursing through his veins. He landed a blow on the curve of your ass, a satisfied grin spreading across his face as he watched the red hand print appear, the skin bouncing with every snap of his hips.
“Fuck, Har- fuck,” you cried, breathless as Harry slammed his hips into yours before pulling out completely. He grabbed at your waist, tugging at your dress for you to turn over. “I need to see you,” he growled, eyes completely darkened when you turned to face him. You’d never seen him with as much as a hair out of place, yet now he looked possessed by his own lust. He was messy, curls hanging down his forehead and a blush to his cheeks, shirt half unbuttoned.
He circled around your clit as you looked him up and down, eyes never leaving yours. “Taking me like a fucking good girl,” he whispered, pushing back into your entrance.
“I can’t- please, sir,” you whimpered, chest heaving as he continued fucking into you with the same ferocity as before. Between his cock, his fingers, his face, you were coming apart. He was twitching inside of you with every moan that left your lips, his own climax creeping up as quickly as yours was. He stilled for a moment, his fingers never ceasing as they rubbed pleasure into your nerves. “You can, and you will. Come for me,” he urged, grabbing a hold of your waist as he thrust into you, each snap of his hips pushing you closer to the edge.
“I’m, fuck-” was all you could cry, your mouth falling open as you shook and writhed under him, his words coaxing out an orgasm stronger than you’d ever imagined. Your eyes brimming with tears, brows knitted as you cried out, hips bucking into the palm of his hand. Harry slowed down slightly, seconds between each thrust as he worked you through your high, your cream coating every inch of his thick cock.
The second you stilled, he slipped his hand under your back, pulling you up to sit as he pulled his cock from you. Harry dragged a thumb across your bottom lip, smirking at your tiny pout as you felt the emptiness in your cunt. “Open up,” he whispered, replacing his thumb with his tip, pushing it past your lips as he worked his hand up and down the length.
You took him into your mouth for the second time that day, the mix of your juices like sweet nectar against your tongue. You were dizzy from your climax, every inch of your core on fire from the sheer brutality of his cock, your walls still pulsing. Harry was grunting and groaning, even his moans husky as he twitched between your lips, his jaw tensing as he came undone, hot cum shooting to the back of your throat.
He held a hand to the nape of your neck, grounding himself as he bucked into you, filling you up at a much faster rate than you could swallow. “Good girl,” he cooed, letting you lick every last drop of cum from his tip before he pulled away, sinking down into his chair as his hand dropped down your body.
You leaned your arms back against the desk, eyes glued to the ceiling as you tried to catch your breath, the stinging of your entrance doubled by the sudden lack of touch.
Harry kept watching you, still under your spell, unable to will his eyes away as you panted. “You have grit,” he whispered, a glimmer in his eye. “But I can’t let you work for me after that.”
“As long as you know I have grit, Mr. Styles,” you smirked, rolling your head down to look at him again.
taglist: @angeldavis777 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @palmettogal508 @drewsephrry @vonnexann @austiebuttbutt @indigo24hughes @peterparkerbae @im-an-overthinker @daphnesutton @loveableidioticweirdo @harryshotpocket @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swag13r @ashleighsss @tswiftsgf @chesthairrry @nikkisimps @hannah9921 @lilfreakjez @prettygurl-2009 @s-h-e-l-b-e-e @indierockgirrl @cicicavill7 @harrystylesluverrrr @cohnfusedarling @ell0ra-br3kk3r @stylesfever
#harry styles fluff#harry styles x reader#harry edward styles#harry styles smut#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x y/n#harry styles masterlist#harryslittlefreakk
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hear me out- Vox. Reader. Gloryhole. I rest my case 💼
listen I had a fucking BLAST with this!!!
on my ao3 this is going to be it's own fic instead of going in with the other oneshot requests, I got an idea that's going to be part of a longer series so it's separate!
Big thanks to @fraugwinska for hyping me up and helping with the title! you are near and dear to my heart and my creative process 💕
Tags: Glory Hole; Blow Jobs; Past Relationship(s); Vox is a little pathetic; Reader has a contract with Val (for now)
Heart Reset 📺💙
Valentino calling him down to the studio is rarely ever a good thing- Vox usually ignores the summons when he can. It’s hardly ever anything important, usually just Val wanting to fuck or invite him to participate in some orgy or another, whining that he would be such a big draw if he would just let Val switch the camera on.
Which, duh, of course he would be. He was fucking sexy, and powerful, which was an extra level of sexy in his opinion. But he didn’t revel in the idea of the masses of Hell being able to pull his face up on their screens whenever they liked- he wanted that ability to stay in his hands, thank you very much, so Valentino’s offers to make him a star were always ignored.
But today Vox’s refusal was met with a threat to not release any videos for a month, and as distasteful as Valentino’s whores could be they drew in the big bucks, and Vox wasn’t willing to lose out on that profit. So he made his way to the studio and wondered what kind of clusterfuck he would be walking into today, what sort of problem he would have to fix for the moth.
When he arrives it’s not to the usual hustle and bustle, glaring lights directed at the huge, gaudy bed against one wall- instead, the lights are dimmed, Valentino draped across his chaise, no cameras anywhere that Vox can see. A personal call, then, but he really wasn’t in the mood. The news had been fucking crazy this week with the early extermination, Alastor almost dying, the usual chaos of Hell. “What do you want?” He asks, cutting to the chase, and the moth turns lazily to look at him.
“Voxxy, you made it!”
“You threatened business, Val.” He lets his hypnotic eye swirl a bit, upping the brightness of his screen to make sure he has his attention. “I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t do that when you were being pissy.”
“Amorcito, this isn’t about me!” He unfolds his long limbs from the chaise and strolls over, bending at the waist to hang his arms over Vox’s shoulders and get closer to his screen, trailing his tongue up the side of his casing. “You’ve been so stressed, darling- I thought you could use the latest addition to the studio to blow off some steam.”
Vox feels his lip curl. “I’m not interested in touching any of your sluts, I’ve told you this so many times-” He backs away from Val, ignores the pout that takes over the moth’s face. “I’m fucking leaving, how many times do I have to-”
Val grabs his arm and tugs him back, drips off his body like a scarf with how lanky and tall he is. “You don’t have to touch anything, papi,” he whines, “just come look at what I have for you, hmm?” He drags Vox by the wrist to a distant wall of the studio, gesturing to a hole that sits, naturally, right at dick level. When Vox turns his glare to Val he pouts. “Don’t look at me like that! I’m trying to help, amor, you’ve been so tense- I thought a nice hole would be the perfect thing for you to relax a little.” He lowers his tone, smoke falling from his lips with his words and curling sweetly around Vox’s head. “You don’t have to touch or look at the whore behind the wall, there are no cameras; you just have to stick that lovely polla of yours through the wall and let yourself be taken care of.”
Vox… isn’t not interested, he supposes, glancing at the wall. His usual objections to anything in the studio have been addressed- this is a surprisingly nice gesture, coming from Val. Offering to let Vox enjoy himself without pushing the idea of a camera on him, without having to worry about their pleasure like he did with the moth. “What are you getting out of it?”
Val smiles, the gesture wide, dripping as his smoke billows around them. “I’ll be over there,” he says, gesturing to the chaise across the room. “I’m content to watch and listen, amorcito, and let you have what you need. Our little friend behind the wall knows not to do anything that would disappoint me, isn’t that right?”
Vox raises his eyebrows when he hears two little knocks against the surface on the other side of the wall. “Trade secret,” Val chuckles, “two knocks for ‘yes’ or ‘keep going.’ One for ‘no’ or ‘stop.’ She’s agreed to help me out with this little favor since her shoot on set B got fucked by a busted up bed, so she knows what she’s doing with the knocks. Keep that in mind while you have your fun!” He saunters away, lays across the chaise again and pulls out his phone while he waits for Vox to get to it.
He looks down at the hole, not nervous but maybe a little hesitant to just shove his dick through the wall for one of Val’s people. “Hey there,” he says, chuckling nervously as he asks, “you come here often?”
There’s an almost amused silence before you knock twice on the wall, and he finds himself smiling while he undoes his belt and pulls it from the loops, discarding it behind himself. “You can talk if you want to,” he says, looking over at Val who’s entirely focused on whatever is on his phone. “I won’t tell- you don’t have to be totally silent.”
A single, immediate knock. No.
That was surprising- normally you couldn’t get one of Valentino’s actors to stop talking, so your refusal was perplexing. He wonders briefly if it’s Angel Dust on the other side before shaking his head at the thought. Val was way too possessive about Angel to not be recording if he was here, regardless of it was a favor to him or not. There had to be some reason though- would he recognize your voice if you spoke? Who could you be?
The thought of a wet, warm mouth around his prick had been enough to make his lower half interested in the proceedings, but the mystery tied to it now- who you were, why you wouldn’t let him hear you- sent him the rest of the way there. He wondered what it would take to get you to make a noise around his prick, if he would know the sound of your moans while he fucked your mouth or while you touched yourself on the other side of the wall to the thought of him using you-
Fuck, maybe he should get to the fucking point. He shifts his pants down enough to bring his cock out, a gentle stroke of his fist down the shaft before he guides it slowly into the hole in the wall. Its big enough that he can comfortably fit within its confines, and almost as soon as his hips are pressed flush there’s a hot, wet tongue curling around the head, then lips pressing to the warm skin of him in little kisses that you trail to the base of his cock and a hand gripping him. And wasn’t that just lovely?
But you were quiet- you drew him into your mouth and sucked without even a whimper, and that just wouldn’t do. “Can you take more?” He asks softly, and he sees Valentino’s head whip in his direction in time with the soft double knock.
Vox grabs the helpful little handle attached to the wall for leverage before he shoves his hips forward, and he’s rewarded with the sweetest little whine when he brushes the back of your throat. In an effort to keep yourself from making any noise your throat constricts around his tip, and he moans low, feeling the wood of the wall vibrate from it. He wishes he could see through the damned thing- see if your eyes were clenched shut to hold yourself back or if they were wide open and glazed, teary in your need. If your hands were dipping in between your legs to take the edge off of your arousal, if you were aroused knowing who he was when he had no clue who you were.
“You feel so good, sweetheart,” he murmurs, trying to goad you into responding, and he doesn’t miss how Val sits up a little straighter on the chaise across the room- they weren’t really together right now, but that didn’t mean that he wanted Vox having too good of a time without him, clearly. “Let that pretty voice out- I wanna hear you moan on my cock, doll, can you do that?”
Val had you trained well, he would give the moth that much credit; you moan low in your throat and the vibration ripples deliciously along the length of him. Even with the sound sending electric bolts of pleasure through his body, he thinks he recognizes it. Some faint whisper in his memory processors tells him that he’s heard that sound before. He needs something else, some other way to get you vocal.
He looks down at the hole in the wall- he thinks if he could get it just a bit wider he might be able to get a hand through it, pull on your hair a little bit. He releases the handle on one side to slip his fingers through the hole, relishing in your hum of surprise and sharp intake of breath through your nose when you see his claws come through. “If I can get this open more,” he says lowly, glad for once for Val’s shitty eyesight so he can’t watch him prepare to potentially destroy part of his set, “can I touch you?” Two hesitant knocks on the wood, but that’s not good enough for him anymore. “I need a verbal confirmation on this, no porn shit.”
Hesitation. Vox worries that he’s ruined it somehow before he hears your voice, low and raspy on the other side.
“Yeah, okay.”
And fuck, he knew it! He did know that voice- something he had suppressed forever, from when he was new to Hell, still a fucking nobody. You had watched him fall, helped replace parts of his screen when he had hit the ground and was still processing the fact that he even had a screen to replace. You had watched over him for weeks, the pseudo-relationship taking a headfirst dive into the sexual before you had just fucking vanished on him a couple months in, leaving him to fend for himself again after taking care of him, making him need you.
It had been fucking decades but Vox remembered. What you looked and sounded like bouncing on his cock in your shitty apartment, fingers rubbing frantically at your clit while your other hand dug claws into the skin of his abdomen. The tilt of your eyebrow when you got pissy with him about something. The way that your lower lip trembled with your stuttering whines when you approached orgasm, or when you cried for him, over the cuts and scars that littered his body when you first brought him home and cleaned him up. Now that he was allowing himself to remember the memories flood back, and if he closes his eyes he can almost picture you on your knees before him the way you had been, lips stretched around the girth of his cock, eyes teary and wanting and ready for him to sink into you at a moment’s notice.
The wood creaks under his fingers, threatens to crack in his grip, and he hears the curious sound you make before he feels it.
Val is going to be pissed if Vox breaks this wall, he knows that much. He also probably won’t react well to him just popping around the back of it to see you, to fuck you if you would allow him that. A glance back to the moth confirms that Val has gone back to looking at his phone, and Vox figures that he can take his chances. He strengthens his grasp on the wood of the wall- “lean back a second, doll,” he warns you, and only temporarily laments the loss of your hot mouth around his prick before he leans out of the hole himself- and yanks, the cheap wood splintering under his hands, showering down on the floor on either side and opening a space wide enough that he can fit at least one of his arms through it. That’s all he needs.
“¡Qué coño! What the fuck was that?” Val stands from his chaise, phone going into his pocket as he prepares to stomp over to Vox, eyes angry.
Vox turns his hypnotic eye on the moth. “I think that was the bed on set B again,” he says loud enough for him to hear, and he watches Val stop, transfixed. “You should go check it out- you’re the boss, after all.”
Val’s feet stutter against the floor. “I- you’re right! I should go check it out- you keep la puta occupied Voxxy, I’ll be back.” He wanders off, muttering in Spanish as he goes, and no sooner has he turned the corner than Vox is sticking his arm through the widened hole that he’s created, finding your head closer than he thought and twisting his fingers into your hair.
His thumb brushes against one of your ears that rests atop your head, soft and fluffy just like he remembers and his stomach drops, his want intensifying suddenly, sharply. Other hand wrapped around his cock he guides it back into the hole, using his new grip on your head to pull you closer, take him further down your throat. “Fuck, baby, that’s good,” he mutters, and your responding whine is fucking delicious. “So fucking hot and wet- some things never change, huh?”
You stiffen slightly under his hand and he shifts his grip, pinches your cheeks where they’re hollowed from his length keeping your mouth open. He lets his thumb trail across your cheekbones, and you exhale through your nose at the sensation, a tremor in your body now. “Did you think I wouldn’t recognize your voice, princess? Those sweet little sounds that you let out when you’re stuffed with my cock? What are you doing here?” He asks, unable to keep the desperate curiosity out of his voice, or to keep his hips from still lazily thrusting into your mouth. Not great for a conversation or answers that he did actually want but fuck had he missed this. He hadn’t let himself even think about you for decades but you had been his first for nearly everything in Hell and then you left him like he was nothing- he thinks he’s entitled to being just a little mean, a little selfish.
“Come on, darling, don’t hold out on me now.” He bucks forward, feels you constrict around his tip again and groans low in his throat. “Show me that you missed me, too.” He forces himself to hold his hips still and let you come to him- you huff out through your nose and suck hard almost defiantly, bringing a hand up to grip his base where you can’t reach with your mouth. You pull off and place kisses down his shaft once more, the whimpers you emit sending sweet shocks of pleasure through his nervous system. He lets his hands tangle back in your hair, not guiding, simply holding on while you kiss and lick and take care of him, his orgasm fast approaching with your attention. “Gonna make me cum, baby, you want it?”
Vox scratches behind your ear as he asks, and the whine you let out is low, pathetic, fucking sexy. “Say the word and it’s yours. All of it, sweetheart, I’ll give you anything you ask. Fuck, I missed you.” There’s the faintest tinge of shame at admitting it- admitting that he didn’t have something he had wanted for so long, that he had had to scrub you from his processors to exist without you. “Did you miss me? You want me to cum in your mouth, claim you again like old times? Tell me.” He pulls you forward and you choke a bit, gag reflex hitting hard and moaning when he pulls you off enough that you can answer him.
“Fuck, Vox, yes,” you whisper, barely audible but its enough. He doesn’t even care, really, which question you’re answering as he guides himself back into your open mouth, hips stuttering once, twice, and losing himself in the slick grip of your throat. His release is met with a soft cry around his cock before he’s coming, spilling into your mouth like so many dreams and memories of the past that he had tried to erase. It’s almost painfully good, his muscles tensing and his fingers clenching hard in your hair while you take him in, swallow him down like the good girl you had always fucking been for him.
You clean him up, lick the remnants of his orgasm from him so sweetly before he pulls himself back through the hole and drops to his knees, pulling your head forward so your mouth is where it was before. He can’t kiss you like this, not really, but he tries his fucking best, licking into your mouth as well as he’s able to and trembling with the effort of not completely destroying the wall to get to you properly. You moan into his mouth and he’s desperate, suddenly, to get you off, too. “How do I get in there?” He asks, pulling away, and he’s mesmerized by the sight of your lips, open and panting when he looks down. “I need to see you, doll, it’s been too fucking long and I- please, tell me how to get in there to you.” He hates that he’s basically begging you but pride be damned; he had already lost you once.
You’re quiet for a moment, and Vox watches your mouth move when you answer. “H-head towards studio B,” you say quietly, “there’s a red door to the right in the hallway. I’ll… I’ll wait for you.” Your mouth pulls away from the hole and Vox is fucking out of there, zipping into the powerline of the nearest camera to find that door, to get to you.
He’s going to have to have a discussion with Valentino, he thinks, when he spots the door and brushes his clothes off before stepping inside. You couldn’t belong to two people at once, and he would let himself fall to an angel’s blade before he lost you again.
#hazbin hotel#ao3 writer#ao3 fanfic#x reader#vox x reader#vox smut#hazbin hotel vox#my stuff <3#i am on my knees#so is the reader lolol
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currently thinking of Art watching his latest match on tv to see the mistakes he has done and how he can improve: he is sitting with his bare back comfortably resting against the cushion of the couch, arms crossed against his chest and legs slightly spread and if it wasn't for his eyes fixed on the TV, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips forming a thin line you wouldn't have never guessed he was so focused.
You were watching him from the door of the living room with his shirt on and slighlty disheveled hair tucked behind your ears, your lips curled into a smile while the fingers of your right hand unconsciously went to play with the engagement ring on the left one. Your eyes followed your own movements for a few seconds before hearing a soft rustle against the fabric of the couch that brought you to look at your fiancé again, he was still looking the tv but his lips were shaped into a small smile and his arms were uncrossed, one tapping against his thigh repeatedly and the other laid out on the cushions for you to take. You swiftly padded towards him and took his left hand in yours, letting him help you climb on his lap like it was the hardest thing you had to do; he kissed your hand before letting you unwrap yours from his to let you hug his neck with both arms, your head falling in between them and against his throat while he caressed your thighs with both hands, your chests pressed together and your legs on both sides of him.
You both stayed silent for a few minutes, the tennis ball being hit over and over and the claps of the people on the tv were the only sounds you could hear along with the gentle breathing of Art under you.
“You did great today” you mumbled against his throat before kissing it.
“Only because you were there” he replied, his hands moving in up and down motions on your legs “didn’t feel like losing in front of you” you smiled and leaned back to look at him.
“You would have been great even then” he finally teared away his eyes from the tv and looked at you, eyes softening seeing your messy hair and droopy eyes caused by the two hours nap you two had.
“I think you're slightly biased” he teased and, while you reached behind you to take the remote from the table in front of the couch, his hands wrapped around your middle to prevent you from falling.
You paused the match “I’m just honest, the fact that I’m your fiancée doesn’t have anything to do with my opinion about your game” you turned back to him and combed his blond hair with your fingers.
“Sure it doesn’t” he sarcastically mumbled while his head dropped against your chest in a relaxed way, his arms squeezing around you even tighter making your back arch and chest press more against his face.
“What do you want to eat? I was thinking we could stay here and order takeaway” your fingers massaged the nape of his neck and head.
“Hamburger sounds nice” he mumbled sleepily and you chuckled.
“You'll have to keep this from your nutritionist though” a groan came out of his mouth and a mumbled ‘let’s not talk about my job anymore’ vibrated in your chest.
“I'll have to find a way to burn the calories quickly though, any idea?" He playfully bit your neck, you trembled taking his face between your hands “i might have a few...” and started to kiss all his face except his lips while he sat there with his eyes semi-closed, his head nuzzled the palm of your left hand.
“You’re so pretty” he whispered “i really want to kiss you right now” goosebumps took all over your body and your heart missed a beat, he knew what effect this phrase had on you… it was the same one he said before your first kiss.
For a moment you went back to 7 years before in your college days: when you were pressed between the passenger door of his car and his body after a walk on the beach, his jacket wrapped around your shoulders and your high-heels in one of his hands while the other had your fingers tangled together, and he whispered the same phrase that made your heart jump and goosebumps rise in the same way it did now.
“Please do” and he did.
#this is probably my first and last fic lol#it's so bad but I needed some fluff for him#hope you guys like it anyway#I love him#tashi who?#never heard of her#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson x you#art donaldson imagine#art donaldson fluff#challengers fic#please do not repost#k bye <3
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Infatuation || Gator Tillman x Reader
Part One: Fixation
Rating: E (18+)
Word Count: 7.9k
Warnings: SMUT (f!masturbation, fingering, unprotected p in v), mild/implied stalking, abuse of power, brief non-sexual choking, harassment, slut shaming, misogyny, unplanned pregnancy, implied/referenced abortion, unhappy/ambiguous ending
Summary: As you face the consequences of your unsatisfying encounter with Gator, he finds new ways to worm his way into your life, for better or worse.
A/N: Here is the highly requested part two :) Thanks for all the love, and I hope you enjoy! This can be read as a finale of sorts to this story, but if there is interest I can write a "wrap up" epilogue :) Anyways, enjoy!
As it turns out, Gator Tillman beating the guy you were dancing on within an inch of his life wasn’t exactly good for your career. And the fact that you had technically stolen that guy’s money was the shit icing on the shit cake.
The club was crowded, maybe more so than you were used to, but you couldn’t find a single patron who wanted you for a dance, or a private dance, or even a second of eye contact.
And, really, you should have seen it coming just based on the general trajectory of your life, but by the end of the night, you were fired. Apparently, that stint with the realtor and Gator had harmed the stellar reputation of the business. That was bullshit anyway. Like, four people had OD’d in the bathrooms, and plenty of old guys had heart attacks on the floor.
The problem wasn’t that the realtor got the shit beat out of him. No, plenty of guys came in, got drunk, and wanted to prove how tough they were. The problem was Gator, but, more than that, it was a fear of the Tillman’s getting too close.
You left the club with maybe thirty dollars in tips and a box full of your shit, which you unceremoniously dumped into the trunk of your car. It was past five in the morning, which meant the sun would start creeping over the horizon soon enough.
As you drove back into town, you couldn’t help but pull over at the twenty-four-hour diner. The homey interior glowed through the windows like a siren song to weary travelers. It always smelled like coffee and grease, and there were always oldies playing on the jukebox. You sat down in a booth and practically melted into the seat.
The older woman taking your order seemed nice enough, though there wasn’t anything about working at the asscrack of dawn that brought a smile to anyone’s face.
“Does Sarah still work here?” You asked, glancing back behind the counter.
“Quit.”
Well, there was that. Your ex-husband’s skanky mistress wouldn’t be showing her face to ruin your night (or, technically, your day) even further.
There was a sign on the counter— Now Hiring! Probably in Sarah’s position, if you had to wager a guess. You chewed on the inside of your lip. It wouldn’t be glamorous, but it would be a hell of a lot better than it had been at the club.
“You’re really hiring?” You eventually asked the older waitress as you nursed a cup of hot chocolate. When she brought out your meal— a big stack of pancakes and the greasiest pile of hash browns the world had ever seen— she placed an application and pen down right beside it.
They really must’ve been desperate, because you got the call the following afternoon that they’d like to interview, and even that wasn’t formal. You walked in, got a three-page employee “manual”, and that was that.
Things seemed to be getting better… at first. A new job that had significantly fewer creeps, and free food once a shift. You got to wear flat shoes and real clothes, which was also a plus. A little less money in your pocket, but it was more stable.
Occasionally, you’d get a tipper who thought it was cute to leave a fake $100 bill with a bible verse on the other side, or an old man grabbing at your tits and ass “accidentally.” Spills and messes were more frequent than you expected— and usually wound up on your apron or soaking through your shoes.
The good with the bad. You had to keep reminding yourself to take the good with the bad.
It was a few weeks of getting on your feet before Stark County’s finest walked through the doors, boisterous and loud. You hadn’t noticed, hadn’t even thought to consider that Gator might visit the town’s best source for greasy comfort food.
When you came out from the back of the diner, your eyes caught him immediately, sitting in your section. You swallowed, grabbed your order pad and a pen, and approached.
“Good mornin’, officers.” He looked up at the sound of your voice, a sly grin spreading across his features. “Do y’all know what you want, or can I run through the menu for you?”
One of the other men just snapped his fingers at you. “Coffee all around.”
You swallowed and nodded. “Yes, sir. I’ll get that right out.”
You heard them snickering as you left, accompanied by loud whispers of don’t you know who that is?
Gator was staring at you, maybe he had been the entire time and you just hadn’t let yourself look. “We’ve missed you at the club, sweetheart. Wanna give us a twirl for old time’s sake?” His grin was smarmy as he looked you up and down, reaching over the table to place down the mugs of coffee. Your blouse gaped open, giving him a glimpse of your cleavage and a remarkably unsexy comfy bra.
As you reached to place the last mug down, Gator slapped your ass hard, making you spill the hot coffee across the table. His little friends laughed as your face burned hot. You did your best to mop up the mess of coffee, but it wasn’t enough and the table was left sticky and gross.
“You’re not gonna get a good tip if you’re so clumsy,” one of them said with a grin, holding up a dollar bill. It felt slimy, like you were back in the club entertaining them for singles.
An hour later, you had coffee and grits spilled on you, as well as a plate accidentally knocked off the table to shatter on the floor. They laughed at you on your hands and knees, picking up pieces of the china from the black and white tiled floor. And at the end of it all, unsurprisingly, there was no tip, no thank you, no anything.
You wish you would’ve spit in their food, but there was always next time. And you knew there was gonna be a next time.
But Gator didn’t like sharing, especially not his playthings. One morning of watching his friends make your life hell had been enough, you supposed. The next time they came in, they were nothing but respectful. All yes ma’am, no ma’am, thank you ma’am. The message was clear enough. He wanted you all to himself.
After a day on your feet, all you wanted to do was watch a shitty reality show on the couch you’d stolen from your ex-husband. You smelled like the deep fryer, which made you nauseous, but you knew if you took a shower, you’d pass out shortly after.
There was a loud knock on your door that nearly made you jump out of your skin. You stood, wrapped a blanket around your shoulders, and opened the door just a crack.
“We got a tip that you might be harboring illegal contraband on the premises.” Gator was leaning against your doorframe like he owned the place, his foot carefully wedged between the door so you couldn’t slam it closed.
You grit your teeth. What bullshit. “You don’t have a search warrant, asshole.”
He gave a careless shrug. “Eh, maybe I don’t, but who fuckin’ cares about that?”
You stood firm, holding the door in place as best as you could while he pushed against it. “Gator, no. Whatever game this is, I don’t wanna play. I have a headache, and I’m exhausted, so—” He gave a firm push on the door, and your strength failed you. You fell to the side as he barreled his way in, making a beeline towards your bedroom.
The door slammed shut, followed by the click of the lock turning. With a groan, you went for the coat closet and retrieved a wire hanger that you could finagle the lock with. After a moment, the lock clicked again and you pushed your way into the room.
What the fuck? He was rifling through your dresser drawers, tossing things onto the ground at random. You doubted he was even really looking for anything in particular. Gator’s priority, above all, was to be a creepy nuisance.
“Gotta be thorough,” he said with a smarmy grin, finally recognizing your presence. “Interfere, and I’m bringing you in for obstruction.” Like the perv he was, he was digging through your panties, grabbing handfuls of lace and cotton. He continued on, throwing things onto the floor just to piss you off. After he’d successfully wrecked one dresser, he moved to the nightstand.
He smiled victoriously and dumped the contents of the drawer onto your bed. Your cheeks flamed with embarrassment at the sight of your modest collection of sex toys, right there for him to see.
“There we are. This goes against the city ordinance prohibiting the ownership of more than two personal pleasure devices,” he said matter-of-factly.
“That’s not a thing,” you argued with a scoff.
He grinned. “Oh, it is. My dad worked to codify an ordinance to fight obscenity. And Jesus Christ, sweetheart, this is obscene.” He surveyed the pile picking up the devices with amusement and a hint of disgust. “Jesus, you’re a fuckin’ fiend by the looks of it. What’s this even do?”
You grabbed at the vibrator in his hand, but he held it up above your head with a grin. “You’re a fuckin’ pervert,” You hissed.
He pressed a button and it buzzed to life, which only made his amusement grow. “You know, if you found yourself a man, you wouldn’t need any of this shit.”
You rolled your eyes at the notion. Half that stuff was collected during your marriage, not that it mattered. Jack was worse in bed than he was at being faithful. You grew to relish in the nights when he was in some other woman’s arms and you could finally find some release.
And you especially relished an opportunity to relax and relieve stress when Gator was hellbent on ruining your fucking life, which was all the time.
You crossed your arms and glared up at him. “That’s a crazy thing for you to say considering you didn’t even bother to get me off.”
He wrinkled his face in annoyance, dropping the vibrator back onto the bed. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about? You came probably, like, three times.”
You could have laughed. “Whatever. Just write the goddamn citation and leave me alone.”
“Maybe I’m concerned about you,” he said with a shrug. “I mean, if you’ve got this many sex toys, that’s some kind of perversion or somethin’. You’re sick in the head. What kind of officer would I be if I punished you for that?”
He grabbed another one off your bed, a rabbit vibrator this time, which only seemed to confuse him more. “Besides, I don’t think you can really afford the fine for breaking this law. I mean, with what you’ve got here, you’re looking at thousands.”
Anger flooded your veins. “Bullshit,” You snapped. “You’re lying.”
“I mean, you can find out tomorrow,” he replied with another stupid fucking shrug. “Or I can forget I ever saw ‘em. Up to you.”
You swallowed hard, already getting a warm, overbearing feeling in the pit of your stomach. Like your body wasn't sure if it wanted to jump his bones or kill him. “And what exactly would make you do that?”
He smiled, showing off his canines. “I mean… now I’m a little curious. Tell me how you use some of ‘em.” He waved the rabbit in his hand. “This one especially. Looks like some kind of fucked up torture device.”
You huffed with annoyance and reached up, grabbing it from his hands. “This one, I mean… this part goes in, and this part stays out.” You explained with vague gestures toward the toy. You grabbed another off the bed. “And this one is, like, just a standard, like, you know. It buzzes. And that one like, kind of thrusts a little bit. I—I don’t know what the fuck else to tell you.” Just seeing him standing there beside the toys made your brain go a little fuzzy with desire and mortification.
He stepped closer, closing the distance between the two of you. “I think I’m more of a visual learner, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low. He reached up, brushing a lock of your hair from your face, and you did your best not to lean into his touch. Why did you want that? “So why dontcha take off your clothes, lay back, and do a little show and tell, huh?”
The moment of hesitation in your brain dissolved in an instant. You wrinkled your face in disgust and shoved him back. “Ugh. Fuck that, and fuck you.”
Anger flashed across his face, only for a moment, before he masked it with his usual shithead attitude. “Oh… I get it,” he said, looking down at you. “Probably on your period with all the attitude you’re givin’ me. Forget it, I don’t even wanna see that nasty shit.”
You narrowly avoided him as he shoved past you, heading back towards the door. The scales of kiss versus kill had firmly tilted towards the latter at his last comment. Anger unlike anything you’d ever felt flooded your veins.
Without thinking, you grabbed a book off of the coffee table in the living room and threw it at him as hard as you could. It collided with the back of his head and he swore loudly.
“You’re fuckin’ crazy!” His hand went to the crown of his head and came back covered in blood. “What the fuck is wrong with you, you stupid bitch?” You grabbed another book and raised a brow in challenge. “Whatever, you’re not even worth it anyway.”
He slammed the door on his way out. The squeal of his tires as he peeled out was music to your ears.
Later, you sighed as you collapsed atop your bed, exhausted from the long process of cleaning up the disaster he’d left in your room. But despite how tired you felt physically, your mind was still racing with thoughts of Gator.
The worst person you’d ever met, who somehow still managed to light every single one of your cells aflame with need. You didn’t want to be with him, obviously. He reminded you of all the worst parts of your ex-husband. And yet… you were staring at the ceiling thinking about the next time you’d see him and all the bitchy things you could get away with saying to him.
With a huff, you reached into your bedside table and grabbed the first vibrator you could get your hands on— simple, without any bells and whistles. Whatever. You were pissed at yourself as you stripped off your pajamas, then your bra… and then your panties.
Stupid fuckin’ man. Your head fell back against your pillows as soon as the vibrator touched your clit, and you couldn’t help the whiny moan that escaped your lips. Your free hand rested on your breast, kneading softly until it wasn’t enough anymore.
Your legs spread wider, hips canting up to seek out more as you began pinching and tugging at your nipples. The plain vibe wasn’t close cutting it, even at its highest setting. All it was good for was working you up to the point of dripping with arousal and needing more.
You clicked it off and sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. Maybe he was right. Maybe you were a little sick in the head. Why else would you be thinking about him right then?
You reached back into the drawer, fumbling blindly until you retrieved the rabbit. It slid in without any resistance with how worked up you were, and you let out a contented sigh at the full feeling.
The second you turned it on, it felt like liquid electricity was dancing through your veins. The external vibrator was positioned just right, so intense that your thighs were trembling.
“Oh, fuck,” you whimpered, back arching slightly. Maybe you could’ve let him watch you. It would’ve taught the asshole what it actually looks like when a woman cums.
You could almost imagine what he’d say too— encouragements veiled with insults. Takin’ it like a fuckin’ slut, aren’t ya? Look right at home on your back like that, spread out all nice and pretty.
You thrust the toy shallowly, eyes rolling back as it brushed against your sweet spot. You could’ve really drawn it out and made an evening of it, but fuck it. You wanted to get off and go to sleep.
You held it just right, so the vibration was focused on your g-spot and clit simultaneously. It was so intense that your moans were pitchy and whiny, hips canting as you got closer and closer.
With a moan more like a sob, you came, the pleasure so intense you had to pull out the toy altogether. As soon as it was out, wetness sprayed from you, making a breathless moan slip past your lips.
Your fingers rubbed at your clit, prolonging the orgasm and making your cunt gush and leave a puddle beneath you on the sheets. When you finally came down, it was with shaky breaths as your body trembled with aftershocks.
You laughed weakly at the ridiculousness of the entire night up until that point, unable to move for a solid few minutes until the fog cleared from your mind and you reached over to turn off the toy. Your legs wobbled as you stood to clean yourself up and change the sheets.
Well, at least if you were going to get arrested for possession of obscene materials, you got the best orgasm of your life out of it. If only you hadn’t been thinking of him the entire time.
——
By noon the following day, you hadn’t received any citation, or been walked out of the diner in handcuffs for your depravity. A quick Google search proved your suspicions that the obscenity ordinance was complete bullshit. Which, you know, made sense considering the sex shop and strip clubs within county lines.
When Gator showed up in his regular booth towards the end of your shift, you did your best to ignore him. One of your coworkers brought him out his artery-clogging usual order, and you were mostly convinced that you might be able to slip out the back without even having to utter a word.
And yet… Outside, Gator was leaning on your car, fucking around with your radio antenna absentmindedly.
“Can I help you, Deputy?” You asked, arms crossed as you squinted against the sun. Your entire body was achy and you just wanted to get home.
He made a vague gesture towards the front bumper. “Headlight’s out.”
You glanced at the front of your car, which was mostly held together by zebra print duct tape and sheer force of will. “Yeah, well, some fuckin’ pervert told me I should save my money to pay for some citation he’s writing up for me.”
Gator grinned. “Oh yeah… I decided to let you off with a warning. For the assault too. My head fuckin’ hurts, you know.” You rolled your eyes, pushing him lightly so you could open your door. “Y’know, you’re being ungrateful. Why don’t you be a good girl and say, ‘Thank you, Gator.’”
You hated the way your heart raced just hearing those words coming from his mouth, but you pushed it down and pulled open the door. “Go fuck yourself, asshole.”
A smug smile spread across his lips. “That’s an interesting choice of words, isn’t it? Bet you had a real good night after I left, didn’t ya?”
He was looking at you like he knew, which he couldn’t have, but he also definitely did. You made a face as you slammed the door shut and flipped him off through the cracked and peeling window tint.
There was one bar in town that was a certified Gator-free zone. Apparently, he’d gotten into a nasty fight there, slammed a guy’s head into a pool table a few times, sent him to the ICU for a week. Most people don’t realize that the actual table part is made of a giant slab of slate, but a lot was learned that day.
You sat at the bar, eyes trained on the photo of Gator on the Do Not Serve bulletin board. He could be kind of handsome when he wanted to. In that picture he looked a little younger, a little more serious. Maybe a little softer if you really wanted to believe it (which you did).
Maybe it was the fact that you had conned the guy beside you into buying you all your drinks (of which there had been plenty) or maybe it was the weird mood you’d been in for the past month, but you really wanted to just wash all of that gel out of his hair and wash his face and maybe buy him a pair of pants with the normal amount of pockets.
“Did you hear what I said?” The guy sitting beside you— Noah? Nathan?— asked.
You tore your gaze from the photo and turned to him, batting your eyes a few times for good measure. “Sorry, I think I’m just a little buzzed.” You smiled flirtatiously and nudged his arm with your own. “You were talking about… a trip to New York, right? Some sort of walking tour?”
He smiled, nodding enthusiastically before continuing, going on and on about things you were mostly half-listening to. He was smarter than most people you talked to, not surprising after you clocked the giant gold college ring on his hand. Mid-conversation, you grabbed his hand in yours and marveled at it, playing up how impressed you were just to make him feel important.
His family is from around here, but he lived in Minneapolis. He was in town visiting while his mom was recovering from surgery. He showed you pictures of the cows on his mom’s land, of the view from his apartment, and of the dog that was waiting for him back at his mom’s place. He was sweet, which made you feel guilty for using him to forget all about Gator.
“Do you want to maybe come back to mine?” You asked, playing at bashfulness. He nodded enthusiastically, looking like you’d just offered him a winning lottery ticket.
In bed, he was generous and eager to please, making sure your needs had been taken care of before his pants were even off. You were so worked up and sensitive that you came twice from his mouth alone, not that he was even particularly that great with it. And then he was inside of you, and you came again, which probably gave him quite the ego.
It had to be some kind of fluke. He was a sweet guy, but he wasn’t exactly a sex god.
But there you were, boneless and panting and flushed and sweaty as you both came down. He was red in the face, fumbling for his glasses so he could really see you.
He wanted to talk and stay up the rest of the night with you, which should’ve been nice. Really, you wanted to be excited. He even tried to ease you into his arms, hold you against him all nice and cozy.
You couldn’t fucking do it.
“I’m just gonna grab some water, alright?” You said before hopping out of bed. Your robe was slung over the back of a papasan chair in the corner. You tied it loosely and made your way out of the bedroom. Needing space, and distance, and god, you didn’t even know.
A sane person would have turned back around, spent time with him, and gotten to know him better. Maybe even wake him up in the morning with coffee and pancakes, or a second round in the shower. But you just wanted to be alone.
The knock on your door shouldn’t have been surprising. You had been pretty loud, even louder than the previous night alone. You tied the robe a little tighter and went for the front door, opening it a crack.
“Look, I’m sorry, I know we were l—“ You trailed off when you caught a glimpse of who was outside. “You’re kidding me.”
Gator stood on the porch, arms crossed and looking irritable. “Got a noise complaint,” he said, glancing between you and the house behind you. “You alone?”
“No,” you replied, crossing your arm. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
He scowled at that, and you recognized the way he was feeling almost immediately. Oh, he was jealous. A tiny laugh escaped you, which only served to piss him off more.
“What’s so fuckin’ funny, huh?”
“Nothin’,” you replied with a shrug. “Is that all, deputy?”
He puffed on his vape and the sickeningly sweet smell of watermelon or cotton candy or whatever the fuck made your stomach turn. You gagged, mouth turning into a frown. “Do you have to blow that shit right in my face?”
“Nope,” he said while repeating the same action. The smell was overwhelming. You could almost feel alarm bells going off inside. “Whatever. Better go on and send your fuck buddy back to whatever hole he crawled out of.”
In the back of your mind, you could hear Gator going on and on, talking about how he bet Noah (how did he know his name?) didn’t even make you cum, and that his dick was small, and he’s probably just some big city loser who comes out here for an easy fuck. But that was in the back of your mind. All you were focused on was the overwhelming smell of sugar as he fucking huffed his vape, and the sinking feeling in your gut.
Nausea clawed up your throat, and a familiar feeling of panic settled over you. You clapped your hand over your mouth, but it was no use. The contents of your stomach spilled onto the floor as you vomited right onto Gator’s boots.
He swore loudly and colorfully, stepping out of the puddle at his feet. You wiped at your mouth weakly, and you would’ve said something like I fucking told you so, but you just felt awful.
“That’s so gross,” was all you could offer. “‘M sorry, Gator.”
And then you were crying your eyes out, and he was walking you inside so you could sit down, and that made you cry more.
“Jesus, you’re moody, huh?” He asked, but the bite in his voice was nearly gone. “Stay here, alright? Before you make an even bigger mess.”
You sniffled and nodded. You saw Noah stepping into the living room, wearing his actual clothes again, which was a relief. You didn’t really want Gator seeing him naked.
“Is everything okay?” He asked, taking a few steps forward.
“I’m fine, I’m just embarrassed,” you said, voice croaky with tears. “I just got sick from the drinking, I think.”
There was a noise from the kitchen and Noah furrowed his brows. “You have a roommate?”
“No, he’s—“ you trailed off, unsure of what to say. “He was here to handle a noise complaint, and I kind of puked on his shoes.”
Gator walked into the room, then paused at the sight of Noah. His face furrowed in blatant judgment. He handed you a sprite, then went straight back to staring at Noah.
“Who’re you?” Gator asked, his arms crossed like a club bouncer.
“I’m Nick.” Oh. Well, at least you were close.
“You should head out, dick,” he said, standing taller, trying to appear more imposing than he really was.
Noah glanced at you and hesitated until you gave a tiny nod. “I had a good time,” you offered. “Sorry about… all of this.”
He scribbled his phone number onto your grocery list by the door, offered a wave, and then headed out, leaving you and Gator alone. For better or worse.
It was quiet as you sipped your sprite, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Are you pregnant?” He asked suddenly. “And don’t fuckin’ lie.”
“What?”
“You’re acting all bipolar, and you're puking over my vape, and your tits look bigger.” You glanced down at your boobs with a frown. They did?
“I’m not pregnant,” you replied defensively. “I got my period, like, right after we fucked.”
He shook his head. “I don’t believe you. You wanna know what I do believe?” You didn’t, but he was going to tell you. “That you pocketed the money for the Plan B, ‘cause you want to get pregnant and blackmail my family.”
You scoffed. “You’re out of your goddamn mind.”
His jaw ticked with annoyance as he looked down at you. “Take a test.”
“Whatever,” you said with a shrug. “I’ll buy one after my shift tomorrow if you’re so fuckin’ worried about it.”
He shook his head. “Fuck that,” he said while tapping away on his phone. “You’ll just lie about it. I’m doordashing this shit.”
You would’ve protested, but what was the point in that? You had nothing to hide— certainly not blackmail. The idea of purposely letting yourself get knocked up by Gator Tillman almost made you want to puke again.
You had finished your Sprite by the time the poor kid arrived, probably seventeen, with his face burning red as he handed Gator a bag from the twenty-four-hour convenience store. Gator slammed the door and dumped the contents of the bag on the coffee table.
Two boxes of pregnancy tests, a monster energy drink, and a pack of cheese bugles.
You grabbed the boxes and trudged towards the bathroom attached to your room while Gator followed close behind. You went to shut the door, but he held it open.
“No fuckin’ way,” he said firmly. “If I leave you’ll just fake it.”
You rolled your eyes, the irritability you felt close to reaching a boiling point. “I’m not pregnant! I don’t want to be pregnant, least of all with your fuckin’ kid!”
When he didn’t move, and, to his credit, stayed completely stoic. You huffed and turned. “If you’re not gonna leave, you can be useful. Hand me one of the little cups beneath the sink. Next to the mouthwash.” He furrowed his brows, but obeyed. “I’m not pissing in front of you.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen worse.” You closed your eyes, doing your best to ignore him and just pee into the fucking cup. The whole situation was so infuriating that you just wanted to scream. Once your shy bladder got over itself, it was easy enough. Dip the tests in the cup, cap them again, lay them out and try to forget they’re there.
You’d taken plenty over the course of your marriage— and you hoped for the same result then that you did before.
“What’d it say?” Gator asked as you washed your hands. He was squinting down at the tests, trying to discern what was happening.
“It’s not instant. You’ve gotta wait three minutes,” you said. After drying your hands, you looked at him again.
Really looked. He was all fidgety, a little pale. His lip was bleeding where he’d been biting at it. He was just as anxious as you were, but you doubted it was for the reason he was saying.
“You kind of want one, don’t you?” You asked, meeting his gaze.
He scoffed. “No. I hate kids,” the words came out quickly, defensively. He was lying, and he was just as bad at it then as he was every time before. “Besides, what the fuck would I tell my dad if I knocked up a stripper?”
His words should’ve had some bite to them, but he just reminded you of a skittish animal lashing out at anything near it. You leaned against the doorframe and sighed. “You’re pushing thirty, Gator. Who fuckin’ cares what your dad thinks about you?” Gator rolled his eyes, because you just didn’t get it, or whatever. But you knew plenty about outrunning parents and the weight of expectations. About outrunning the weight of not being what they wanted.
You looked at him again, narrowing your eyes. “What do you really want, huh? Outside of making my life hell, terrorizing the town, and making your daddy proud?” You paused, but were met with silence. “If you’d just try to be a decent human being for once, you might find a nice girl who wants to be with you.”
“And that asshole you brought back here and fucked was decent, huh?”
“I think so, yeah,” you replied.
“And you’re gonna see him again? ‘Cause he’s so nice?”
“No, Gator, I’m not gonna see him again,” you said sharply. “I’m not, because he deserves better than a second night with someone who didn’t want to be around him.”
Before he could respond, the timer on your phone went off, louder in the tiled bathroom. Your hands fumbled as you turned it off, heart pounding with nerves.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, just look,” Gator said, clearly annoyed by your hesitance. You watched him flip them over, one by one, all reading the same result.
Positive. Positive. Positive. Positive.
Gator squinted at the lines, then at the back of the box, a few times until it settled in.
“Goddamn it!” He shouted, slamming a hand against the counter. You flinched, but couldn’t bring yourself to react further than that. “I told you to take a fucking Plan B, didn’t I?”
You swallowed hard, doing your best to remain calm. “You did, and I did. Maybe, if you didn’t want to knock me up, you should’ve pulled out like I told you.”
He rolled his eyes. “You know, it probably isn’t even mine,” he said, glaring in your direction. “You let that asshole from the bar cum in you tonight?”
Your cheeks burned hot. “You’re disgusting,” you sneered. “And, no. I don’t make a habit of letting guys fuck me raw.”
He rolled his eyes. “Oh, but you were so willing to give it up for me, huh?” He grabbed your arm, hard for the briefest second before his grip softened. “See, this is why I know you’re tryin’ to fuck my family over.”
You gave an exasperated groan and yanked your arm out of his grasp. “One, you didn’t pull out. Two, how exactly am I gonna blackmail your family if there’s no baby, you fucking idiot?”
His expression softened slightly as he considered your words. His brows furrowed in confusion, as he looked back at the tests. “Those are all positive, that means you’re pregnant.”
You gave a long exhale and met his gaze. “And it’s early enough that I can still have it taken care of. Maybe not in this fuckin’ state, but my car can still make a trip to Minnesota. Probably.”
He processed the words and the implications before shaking his head. “No.”
You raised a brow, taken off-guard by that single word. “I’m sorry?”
He shook his head. “I said no. You’re not doin’ it.”
You scoffed incredulously, blinking away your confusion. “Five seconds ago you wanted to punch through my drywall because you thought you were being blackmailed. Now you suddenly care about the sanctity of life? Give me a break. You nearly beat that guy to death in front of me at the club, and from what I’ve heard, you’ve done worse than that.”
”It’s different,” he argued, annoyed that you called out his hypocrisy. “It’s mine, so I should have some sort of say.”
You swallowed hard, staring at the curtains near the window so you could avoid his eyes. “Exactly. It’s yours. I don’t want to have your baby, Gator. I don’t want to bring another goddamn Tillman into the world.”
He had you pressed against the wall before you even had a second to realize he was moving. Your head knocked against the drywall, making you yelp. One hand was wrapped around your throat, keeping you pinned to the wall with a light amount of force. “I could stop you,” he finally said. “I mean… really stop you. Make it so you can’t leave. Could keep you at the ranch, make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”
But he couldn’t. He couldn’t, because that would mean involving his father. Knocking up a stripper doesn’t exactly give men like his father warm and fuzzy feelings.
When you swallowed, your throat bobbed against the palm of his hand. Your eyes trailed up, landing on his as your breathing came out in pants.
His mouth was on yours suddenly, claiming you with a searing kiss. His tongue forced its way into your mouth, making you moan.
He’d never kissed you before, not once. You hadn’t even thought he’d want to. But there he was, groaning into your mouth as he made out with you.
“Gator—“ you gasped as he ground against you, already rock hard without any real coaxing. He shut you up with another kiss, hungry and messy.
You got the message— no more talking about that. He pulled the tie of the robe you wore and it fell onto the ground in a pile, leaving you completely bare.
He pulled back from the kiss, eyes raking over your body hungrily. Big hands traced over your skin, making you shiver. A gasp escaped you as he squeezed your tits.
“They really are bigger,” he said with a wry laugh.
“Shut up,” you snapped, head knocking against the wall as you tossed it back.
“You’ve got a bad fuckin’ attitude. But I can fix that.” One of his hands moved down your body, cupping your cunt, fingers dipping into the pool of your arousal. “You get this soaked for that asshole?”
You whimpered as his fingertips teased your entrance, just shy of everywhere you needed him. Just shy of slipping inside, purposely avoiding your clit. He locked eyes with you, his gaze intense.
“Don’t be shy, you can tell the truth,” he said, continuing to tease with featherlight touches. You could feel just how wet you were getting— dripping embarrassingly down your thighs.
“Only ‘cause I thought about you,” you admitted. A sly grin spread across your face. You’d never let him have an easy win. “You’d probably be one of the best fucks I ever had if you bothered to make me cum.”
“Don’t fuckin’ piss me off,” he said with an eye roll. He thrust his middle finger inside of you, and you moaned softly. “Such a goddamn liar.”
He was a little more gentle with you, despite, well, everything. Warming you up with one finger before adding a second. Moans fell from your lips as he curled them just right, the cocky expression he wore told you he was dead set on proving that he really was top-ten material.
His thumb brushed against your clit, making your legs tremble. You couldn’t help but clench around his fingers, your entire body overwhelmed with need. Maybe it was hormones, or maybe it was all the tension between you, but your entire body was aching for him.
“Close,” you gasped out. Your open, panting mouth was like an invitation. He kissed you deeply, his tongue licking into your mouth as he continued fucking you with his fingers. When he pulled back, his eyes locked with yours.
“That’s it,” he practically cooed. “C’mon, give it to me.” You moaned, walls clenching around his fingers as you grew closer and closer to the edge. He tried to pull his hand from between your thighs, but you grabbed his wrist and shook your head.
“Gator, don’t fuckin’ stop until I tell you to.” His cheeks went pink, eyes flashing with something unfamiliar.
Your moans grew pitchy as you got closer, hips canting against his fingers, shoulders digging into the wall as your back arched off of it.
You barely had time to gasp out a feeble, “‘m cumming!” Before your climax hit.
Broken moans escaped you as pleasure radiated through you. His fingers kept their pace, and every brush of his thumb on your clit made spots dance across your vision. When you were finally spent, you had to tap his wrist weakly. “Okay, that’s enough,” you managed.
He was coated down to his wrist with sticky arousal, which made you look away with heat burning in your cheeks, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.
He grabbed your jaw and turned your face back to look at him, wearing a smug expression. “Don’t act all shy now. Tell me you want more.” Bold of him to assume he could make you cum again. But you nodded anyway. You’d like to see him try, at least.
“I want more,” you said, even though it killed you to just give in so easily. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip, before he pressed a little more and breached the pouty seal of your lips.
“Yeah? Your friend didn’t wear you out before this?” He asked, his voice dripping with a false sense of concern. He pushed his thumb a little deeper, pressing down on your tongue while you sucked on it. You had a pretty good sense of what he was getting at, but a hot need was bubbling up in your stomach and you couldn’t deny yourself any longer. “I’m just saying, sweetheart. Takin’ two cocks in one night is… well, it’s pretty fuckin’ slutty.”
At his words, you bit down on his thumb until he withdrew it with an annoyed huff. “You wanna leave?” You asked, raising a brow. He shook his head. You stepped around him, settling in the middle of the bed. “Take your clothes off then.”
He was quick to undress, clumsy in his haste. His vest knocked against the wall and sent a picture frame tumbling off its hook. He stripped off piece after piece in a sort of never-ending Russian doll until he was finally naked and standing there waiting for you to compliment him, or something.
You took in the sight of him hungrily, and the hormonal neediness of it all made you want him more than you had before. “You’ll do,” was all you said, smirking as he pinned you down against the mattress.
“You’re such a bitch,” he said, but there wasn’t any real malice in his tone. Actually, you were pretty sure he liked it about you. You spread your legs to accommodate him, shivering as he rocked his hips just so and let the head of his cock brush against your folds. “But you want me so bad, huh? Just need me to fuck that attitude out of you, don’t you?”
You whimpered when he pressed himself against your center, only letting the tip slip inside briefly before pulling back out. He raised a brow, wanting to hear you beg.
”Gator, if you don’t get inside me, I’ll call Nick to finish the job.”
You would have laughed at how quickly he buried himself within you after that if the force of it hadn’t punched the air from your lungs. His pace was brutal, and the sound of his hips slapping against the plush of your thighs with each rough thrust made sheepishness settle warm in your chest.
“You act like— fuck— like you don’t want me, but I don’t think this pussy got that memo.” A smirk played at his lips as he railed into you, soft grunts punctuating each thrust in. You wrapped your legs around him, pressing with your heels to encourage him deeper.
He was such a self-assured asshole, but, fuck, if that didn’t turn you on. He had one of your hands pinned to the bed, fingers tangled with yours.
“Go ahead and touch yourself,” Gator instructed.
He didn’t have to tell you twice. As soon as the words passed his lips, you moved your free hand between your thighs to circle your clit. The feeling was damn near euphoric. Breathy moans fell from your lips as your head fell back against the pillows.
And Gator was fucking eating it up.
“That feel good, huh?” His voice was breathy; his words were punctuated with moans and fucked-out pants. “Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight, sweetheart. You’re really lovin’ this, huh? Bet you wanna be stuffed full of this cock every day. Coulda had this again a lot sooner if ya weren’t such a bitch all of the time.”
You could feel yourself reaching your finish, but you couldn’t find the words to tell him. Each moan slipping past your lips was even more debauched than the last as he buried himself inside your needy cunt.
“It’s too much, huh?” He asked, fucking you with a relentless need to cum. With each thrust his cock kissed your cervix. “You can take it, can’t you? Made just to take this cock inside your needy little pussy.”
Your eyes rolled back as your walls clamped around him, your finish so close you could have sobbed with relief. You came with a cry of his name, which would have been mortifying, had you been in a mindset to retain your pride.
“F-Fuck—“ He cried out, his hips stuttering. “Holy fuckin’ shit— gonna cum— fuck—“ He buried himself in you with one final, rough thrust before he went still, collapsing atop you with his full body weight.
He laid there, panting hot breath against your neck until he came back to his senses. He gave one final wet kiss to your throat before rolling over with a pleased sigh.
“You finally know what it feels like,” you mused, staring up at the ceiling.
Gator furrowed his brows as he turned to look at you. “I’ve fucked you before, it’s nothin’ special this time.”
Gee, thanks. “I meant you finally know what it feels like for a girl to cum while you’re inside her.” You grinned as you watched annoyance twist his features. He rolled his eyes with a huff, but didn’t seem too pissed off at your jab.
It was contentedly quiet until you remembered the pregnancy tests sitting on the counter just one room over. Your stomach twisted with guilt as you looked over at him, his hair a little messy, cheeks flushed from exertion.
It would’ve been nice if things were different.
“I’m moving,” you said finally. “Back to Texas, I think. Maybe even somewhere new. As soon as I’ve saved enough for a down payment.”
Gator turned quickly, anger making his brows furrow. “Leaving?”
You swallowed hard. “I’m getting out of Lehigh, and I think you should too. This place is poison. You know that.”
You watched him swallow, jaw ticking as he stayed quiet. You let the quiet linger in the air, nearly choking on it before he finally spoke. “This is where I belong.”
You nodded and said nothing else. When you woke up in the morning, his arms were around you, and he was drooling into the junction of your shoulder. His hand, flat on your tummy, almost made you yearn for that picture-perfect Tillman family, the one he thought he wanted so badly.
You couldn’t bring yourself to wake him up. When he left, he didn’t say a thing. It felt definite.
#hiiiiiii <3#gator tillman x reader#gator tillman fanfic#gator tillman smut#okay that's all enjoy <3
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Turbulence
You join the mile-high club with a mysterious English gentleman.
Tangerine (Bullet Train) x Reader
A/N: First BT fic! Been obsessed with this movie, and just had to make something with one of our favourite assassins. I had to do a weird amount of research on flying for this... It won’t be my last so follow for more! :)
Set pre movie.
Word count: 2.5K
Tags: SMUT / Porn with little plot / Minor spoilers for references in Bullet Train (2022) / Unprotected sex / Creampies / Hookups / Mentions of birth control / Quickies / Canon-typical language / Canon-typical banter / Minors + Ageless blogs DNI
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome onboard Flight 4B7 to Tokyo. We are currently second in line for take-off and are expected to be in the air in approximately five minutes time. At this time, we ask you to please fasten your seatbelts and secure all baggage underneath your seat or in the overhead compartments. Please turn off all personal electronic devices, including laptops and cell phones. Smoking is prohibited for the duration of the flight. I’m Goldie, and thank you for choosing our airline. Enjoy your flight!”
Hanging the speaker up, you smoothed out your skirt as you fixed yourself to take the final walk before take-off. ‘Goldie’ wasn’t your real name of course, but a nickname given to you by a sleazy boss. You would’ve hated it, but you found that it greatly helped with creepy passengers who were searching for a place in the coveted ‘mile high club’, or those who simply flew with the intention of sleeping with flight attendants across the world. On the contrary, it was always cute when toddlers cooed your name from across the plane, calling for you as if you’d known them their entire life.
As you pushed past the curtain to the business class, your eyes fell on a pair of men; one dark-skinned with curly dyed hair, the other with long, slicked back hair and a moustache. They wouldn't have been anything out of the ordinary had the moustached man not been holding a phone to his ear. Great. There was always at least one person who never listened to the announcements, but there was something about those who rode in first or business class that held a different kind of entitlement entirely.
Swallowing, you put on your best customer service and sauntered over to them. The dark-skinned man noticed you first, raising his brows before nudging the one next to him, who seemed deep into an important, but strained, conversation.
“...Yeah, yeah. We get the kid and the briefcase, then the train to Kyoto...Yes, we know who we’re dealing with, I forwarded Lemon the briefing. Right, can we go now? Take-offs in two minutes --”
“Excuse me,” you cut in. “You’re going to need to hang that up...”
The man did a double take, holding his phone away from his ear as he glanced up at you. If it wasn’t his old English accent that captivated you, it was his eyes, a striking blue with hints of grey that seemed to stare directly into your soul.
“I’m going now.” He said snarkily to the person on the phone before hanging up, placing the object into the pocket of his navy-blue suit before staring up at you with a charming, but cheeky smile.
“My apologies darlin’,” he said, his voice as smooth as butter. “Work won’t give us a break.”
“Don’t I know it?” you replied, shifting your weight as you prepared to move on. “Thank you, sir. Enjoy your flight...” you said before looking down at his hands; strong and adorned with gold rings.
“...Nice watch.” You finished with a knowing smile. Given the parts of the broken conversation you’d heard, and the elaborate way they were dressed, you figured that they were at least some kind of secret service members - not that it was any of your business, of course. Still, there was something particularly arousing about the blue-eyed man in the three-piece navy suit with the nice watch, and you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if you broke your ‘no-sex-on-the-job’ rule, just this once. If he wasn’t busy with mission stuff, of course.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” He replied, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as he smiled, watching you as you walked off, admiring the questionably short length of your skirt in the process. Sitting back in his seat, he chuckled to himself before turning to see his brother Lemon hastily swiping through the movie selection on the screens.
“The fuck are you doing?”
“Tryin’ to see if they’ve got Thomas...” Lemon said matter-of-factly. “It’s alright though. I always come prepared.” he finished, tapping his laptop pointedly. Tangerine frowned, shaking his head as he sat back in his seat, side eyeing you as you made your way to your jumpseat in the corner.
It was going to be a long journey, but at least he had a nice view.
.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・．
As soon as it had been safe to take seatbelts off, you’d wasted no time in making your way back down to the business area. The best part about the job was that you were able to walk about, getting a good glimpse at the passengers you thought were attractive – all under the guise of providing good customer service. The man with watch was reading a book, whilst the other seemed engrossed with whatever was on the screen, with his fingers covering his face in a concerned manner. They seemed like polar opposites, yet seemed to work so well together, something that made your job a lot easier when it came to seating passengers. If only everyone was like them.
If it hadn’t been obvious, you were rather interested in the blue-eyed gentleman in particular. Whilst he hadn’t given you definite signs he was interested, you fixed your make up in your compact mirror regardless, and opened a button on your blouse so it was just a little lower than industry guidelines. It never hurt to try, and it certainly wasn’t as if you were going to see him again.
Smiling, you guided a cart down the narrow aisles, stopping at the pair of men.
“Refreshments?”
The dark-skinned man, ‘Lemon’, as he had been referred to, answered first, eagerly pausing his screen to speak to you.
“I’d love somethin’, love,” he said, holding the same accent as his partner. “D’ya have anything fizzy?”
“Of course,” you hummed. “We have Coke – regular, Diet and Zero, Dr Pepper, Sprite, some SanPellegrino --”
“I’ll have a Coke, love. Make it Diet...” he said, and you nodded, quickly finding the box for the right can. “It’s a shame ya don’t do any bubble milk tea up here...I got a real craving for one...”
You laughed as you handed him the can. “Luckily for you Tokyo is full of great places to get one. You probably could even find one in their vending machines...Don’t get those in the West, do you?”
“Certainly not in London,” he chuckled, opening the can and taking a swig before pursing his lips and tapping a finger on his chin. “Say, I don’t suppose you could settle a little argument for me, could you?”
“Oh here we go...” the other man interjected, drawing himself from his book to huff and look between the two of you. “Fucking unbelievable.”
Lemon rolled his eyes.
“That SanPellegrino of yours...Which flavour do you sell the most?”
You bit your lip.
“Depends...It’s usually lemon because people think it might taste like lemonade. The orange one never goes to waste, though...”
Lemon gave the other man a pointed look, and he scoffed before looking at you.
“Not to completely waste your time, love, but if you had to choose between a lemon or a tangerine...” he didn’t finish, probably because it would’ve pained him to, and moved his hands as if he were balancing weights on scales.
You stared blankly between the two men, confused but utterly endeared.
“Tangerines are good on their own, but lemons are far more versatile...”
“See?” Lemon said triumphantly, celebrating with himself before shaking your hand. “Pleasure doing business with you, darlin’.” He grinned before restarting his movie, moving on as if nothing had happened. You chuckled to yourself, conscious of the hundred other guests that needed you, but looked back to lock eyes with the other man, ready to ask him the same question. He wore a knowing smirk on his face, the curve of his pink lips still evident under his thick moustache and tutted chidingly.
“Really thought you’d be on my side there, sweetheart,” he sighed. “Suppose you can’t trust everyone, can you?”
“I’m sorry,” you pouted. “You must give it to him though. Lemons are pretty good.”
“Darlin’ I don’t have a problem with the message, but the messenger,” he said, nodding to the man next to him. “He’s a grown arse lad watching Thomas, that one.”
You chuckled, glimpsing at the screen to see that it was indeed correct. Shaking your head, you scanned the crafted features of his face before raising a brow.
“So, what’s your poison?”
“A gorgeous lady pushing a cart, it seems.”
“Smooth,” you hummed, unable to ignore the way a dangerous heat shot through your stomach and down to your core, making your legs feel like jelly. He’d hardly done anything, and yet you were under his spell. “What would you like to drink?”
“Nothin’ at the moment, love,” he grinned. “I’m a bit peckish, if anythin’...”
Sighing, you quickly checked the man out again, this time eyeing his body. Broad shoulders, muscular thighs, thick legs...The total package.
“Hurry, up! I’m thirsty!” Someone from across the aisles said. The man was about to argue, but you halted him, nodding in the direction where the voice came from.
“I tell you what,” you said softly, lowering your voice as you stared into his eyes, your composure so controlled that it would’ve been impossible to tell that your heart was pounding in your chest as you spoke. “-- Us staff have our own snacks. If you meet me by the toilets in fifteen, I can get you some...”
“Don’t leave me hangin’, sweetheart.” The man grinned, not-so subtly uncrossing his legs and giving a cheeky wink before you headed off down the aisle. Gripping onto the handle of the cart, you tried your hardest to walk straight, excitement boiling in your loins as you counted down those fifteen crucial minutes with every strained smile at a customer.
.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・．
He was there when you arrived.
“Took ya’ long enough -” was all he said before cupping your cheeks and pulling you into a passionate kiss, pressing your body against the wall of the bathroom. It was by far the most glamorous place to have sex, but there was something about the sleaziness of it all (with such a put-together man, nonetheless) that made it that more enticing. His scent was an ode to his masculinity; aromatic and woody, and it consumed you as he kissed down your neck, nipping at your collarbone as his large hands caressed the sides of your body. You moaned, writhing your front against his pelvis, desperate to feel the outline of his erection against your own. Admittedly, you weren’t entirely sure what to do with your hands, settling to drape them around his neck in fear of messing up his hair. He seemed like a man who took pride in his appearance, and he certainly wasn’t going to be able to fix it up in an airplane bathroom.
“Feel me, darling. I don’t bite...” he whispered, his hands now sliding between your thighs as he fought to push your panties to the side. You took this as a hint, and you combed your fingers through his roots with one hand, whilst the other fumbled to undo the button on his trousers, difficult to do with his considerable bulge. You let out a broken gasp as you felt his cock, likely over average sized with a nice girth, and he shuddered in response.
“Goldie, is it? You’re a naughty one...” he sighed, slipping a finger into your wet cunt.
“Mhmmm,” you crooned. “’S nickname. I don’t suppose you’ll give me yours?”
“You’re a bright bird, ‘m sure ya figured it out.”
“Tangerine, huh?” you hummed, throwing your head back as he began to finger fuck you, his gold rings adding the extra girth that would prepare you nicely for his cock. “I like tangerines...”
“Ya didn’t seem to back there.”
“Well, give me a reason to...” you chuckled, and he grinned, grunting before he hoisted your leg up around his waist, his cock dangerously near your entrance.
“Better be quick,” you teased, staring at him through your lashes. “They’ll get suspicious if I’m not back in five.”
Tangerine chuckled.
“I can do that. Just know it’s not a reflection of me at my best.” he sniffed.
“Good to know.”
Your words were unfounded as he pushed into you, his girth filling you completely as you moulded perfectly around his cock, gripping onto his shirt as he began to buck his hips. The man grunted, accosting himself to the feel of your warm, wet hole – raw and unfiltered, sighing into the nape of your neck as he fucked you. He steadied himself with his hands, gripping onto your thigh with one as the other rested above you, lending him the luxury of staring into your eyes as he drilled you.
“God...” you panted, your lips wet and raw from his kisses. “T-Tan -- You’re so good...”
“That’s it, love,” he beckoned, words rolling off his tongue like honey as he rolled his hips deeper into you. “Say my name...”
“Tangerine...” you whined, eyes fluttering shut as you drowned out the vacuum-like ambience around you, focusing on the small grunts and sweet nothings the man whispered into your ear, his warm breath sending chills up your spine. The room around you was making a slight creaking sound, and you barely even cared that your calf was banging slightly against the door.
With every passing second his thrusts became more focused, solely intended to bring you both to that point of ecstasy- yet you didn’t doubt that Tangerine was the kind of man who made sure you finished, even if he himself didn’t.
His hair was beginning to become undone now, brown strands falling in front of his face, just barely clouding his vision, but enough to make him look even hotter. Both of your shirts became more and more dishevelled as he pressed up against you, the muffled sound of his clothed thigh against your bare ones becoming more frequent as he growled, the sound coming from deep within his muscular chest.
“Fucking hell, darlin’...’M gonna make a mess...” he hissed through laboured breaths. “I’ve gotta pull out --”
“It’s alright,” you lulled, and you could’ve sworn that his cock twitched at the phrase. “I’m on the pill...”
“You naughty girl...You’re gonna get me in trouble --” he groaned, throwing his head back as he gave you a few fast and sloppy pumps, shutting his eyes as you clamped down on him during your own release, creaming around his cock as he filled you with his own. You dug your nails into his clothes as you rode off your respective highs, hair and clothes askew as he rubbed small circles your trembling leg before lowering it to the ground.
Panting, there was a brief silence as you dressed yourselves, with Tangerine preening himself in the tiny mirror.
“You look good as gold.” You said with a smirk, fixing your hat.
“Thanks,” he said with a broad smile, popping some gum into his mouth as he looked you up and down. “You’re a dime a dozen, y’know? Fly this route often?”
“Sometimes,” you hummed, opening the door so that the sign no longer read ‘occupied’. “Why, are you thinking of coming back?”
“I’ll be headed to Kyoto,” he said, looking around before he stepped out. “Maybe I’ll catch you there.”
“Yeah,” you grinned, fixing the final button on your shirt. He’ fucked you so good you could barely even remember what your next journey was. “Maybe.”
#florence writes!!#tangerine x reader#tangerine bullet train#tangerine bullet train x reader#bullet train imagine#aaron taylor johnson x reader#aaron taylor johnson imagine#bullet train x reader#x reader smut#atj x reader#atj smut#bullet train 2022
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early rise cafe - matt sturniolo
in which matt’s summer job turns into something more
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The smell of coffee and pancakes filled your nose as you swiped your rag across the counter. A customer had just left, leaving a few bills behind for your tip. You picked them up with a smile, carefully tucking them into your apron. Although you had only started your shift an hour ago, you knew today was going to be busy.
Early Rise Cafe was the place to be on a hot, summer morning. It was one of the few restaurants left in town that was family-owned and served food made with love. You would always work there in the summer. Your mom knew the family who owned the cafe, so when you were old enough to work, you were guaranteed a job there.
You couldn't complain. It was quite a nice place to work. The staff was warm and welcoming, which is exactly what you needed early in the morning. The look of the place quickly became a favorite of yours. They hadn't changed the aesthetic of the decor since the place opened, but you dug the retro vibe. It was also evident in your uniform; a white blouse and skirt with a red and white checkered apron.
As you turned to put your rag in the sink, the bell on the front door chimed. You steered your attention to the customer, putting on your friendliest smile. It was a young man, close to your age. As he got closer, you could see tattoos littering his arms, which were on display in his white tee and jeans.
"Good morning. Could I interest you in a cup of coffee?" You held up the pot with a smile, waiting for his response.
He took a seat on the stool in front of you, resting his arms on the counter. "Yeah, that would be great, thanks." He watched as you grabbed a mug and set it down in front of him. You poured the coffee in, the heat creating a small cloud of steam in front of you.
As it reached the top, you set the pot down. "I'll be right back with a menu for you." You turned around, making your way towards the kitchen.
The boy grabbed a packet of sugar and ripped it open. He watched as the sugar fell into his coffee, disintegrating within a second. He stirred it with a coffee stirrer. He wasn't sure why he had done that. He didn't even like coffee that much. But for some reason, he couldn't say no when you had smiled at him.
You pushed open the kitchen door, menu in hand. You set it down in front of him with a smile. "I would recommend hotcakes; they seem to be a favorite. No rush of course. Take your time." You walked to the other side of the counter, giving him time to look over the menu.
He watched as you walked away, not an ounce of his attention on the menu. You were very attractive to him. The way your hair bounced as you walked and how pretty your smile was had him distracted.
You came back after a minute. "Ready to order?" You pulled out your notepad and pencil, getting ready to write down his order.
He blinked at you. "I think I'll get the hotcakes. I trust your judgment," he joked.
You smiled as you scribbled on your notepad. "I'll have that right out for you."
To pass the time, he thought he would try the coffee. He picked up the mug, bringing it to his mouth. He knew it was still hot, so he blew on it before taking a sip. As soon as the bitter liquid hit his mouth, his face scrunched up in disgust.
"You don't have to drink it, ya know?" He set the mug down, looking over at you. You had been watching him from the cash register. "Do you even like coffee?" He shook his head, making you chuckle. "So why did you get it?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "I couldn't say no to you for some reason."
"Don't you know how to butter a girl up," you joked. You made your way back into the kitchen.
After a minute, you came out with a plate of hot cakes. You set them down in front of him. "Is there anything else I can get ya?"
He looked up at you, finally allowing himself to make eye contact with you. "A job application." You raised your eyebrows at his request. Based on your reaction, he regretted his decision to speak. "Shit, was that stupid?"
You shook your head with a laugh. "No, you're all good. Just unexpected is all." You watched as he bit into his pancake, smiling to himself. "Let me go check if we have any." You turned and made your way to your boss's office.
You saw him sitting at his desk, typing something on his computer. His grandparents started the restaurant and it got passed down to him over the years. You lightly knocked on the door, making your presence known to him. "Rich, can I ask you something?"
He looked up from his computer, giving you his full attention. "Shoot."
"Do we have any job applications?"
He furrowed his brows at you. "Why? Who's asking?"
You let out a nervous chuckle. "There's a guy out there who's interested in working here and he asked for an application."
"You know we don't just hire anyone," he said with a sigh.
You internally cursed yourself. Of course, he wouldn't just hand out applications. He tended to keep business between family and friends of the family, but maybe he could make an exception.
"I know, I know. But please, Rich. He seems like a nice guy. You know I wouldn't even think to ask if I thought he wouldn't be a good fit." You gave him your best puppy dog eyes, trying your hardest to persuade him.
After what felt like an eternity of him staring at you, he let out a deep sigh. His hands flipped through the papers on his desk, trying to find a certain piece. He eventually handed you a piece of paper. You looked over it with a smile. It was a job application. "Thanks, Rich. I promise you won't regret this." You clutched the paper to your chest as you made your way back to the counter.
When you got back, his plate was empty and he was looking around the room. "Here ya go." You handed him the paper, which he gladly accepted. "Just fill it out and hand it back to me." You pulled out a pen from your apron and passed it over to him.
After a few minutes, which you spent cleaning up his dishes and wiping the counter, he was done with the application. You read it over, smiling as you read his name. "This looks great, Matt. I have no doubts he wouldn't hire you."
He raised a brow at your words. "How did you know my name?"
You let out a laugh. "It's the first thing you had to write."
A deep red spread across his face, making you chuckle to yourself. "Oh, yeah." Based on his tone, you could tell he was embarrassed. "So, how do you like working here?"
"It's a great job." You leaned across the counter, resting your arms on the cool surface. "Everyone is super friendly here. And the pay is good too." He nodded his head at you. "Well, I'm going to take this back to Rich." He gave you a nod before you turned to walk away.
After you handed in his application, you made your way back out to Matt. "From what I can tell, he's impressed by you."
"Really?"
"Mhm. He should get back to you in a few days." He nodded at you. Suddenly, an idea popped into your head. "Unless you want me to," you suggested.
His face slightly lit up. "What do you mean?"
You wiped your hands on your apron before sliding your phone out of the pocket. You pulled up your contacts and went to make a new phone. "Here, put your number in for me." You passed him the phone. He smiled as he took it in his hands, typing away happily. "I'll probably be able to give you his answer faster than he can. And who knows, maybe your number will be useful in the future."
He smiled as he passed the phone back. "Yeah, for sure." He glanced over at the clock on the wall. He got up from the stool, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. "Well, I better get going," he said as he handed you his card. You took it from him and went to the cash register. He watched as you swiped his card, smiling as you did. He pulled out a 20 from his wallet and set it on the counter.
"Well, I guess I'll see you later, Matt." You smiled as you handed him his card.
"See ya later." He smiled before turning to leave, the bell chiming as he opened the door.
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a/n: sorry for posting this later than expected 😭 and yes there will be multiple parts for this !!
tags: @jnkvivi @pjmpcyy @raysmayhem-72 @mattscurlygirly @patscorner @chrattstromboli @junnniiieee07 @imwetforyourmom
#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#matt x reader#matthew sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo
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Four and Counting
husband!Oscar Diaz x fem!black!reader
Word count: 4.4k (oops)
Warnings: everything is fluff, the cutest couple alive, another pregnancy, hints at abortion (but supportingly?), Oscar being the cutest fucking husband, self-indulgent asf cant lie like I want be in love like this
if i missed any lmk
AN: yall do not know how long this mf has been in my drafts omg I finally finished. This fic is just drowning in love. No smut 🤷🏾♀️. A bit rushed in certain places but it all fits pretty well in my opinion. this is not the end of the series but its like the end of the main chapters. there will be lore on the couple obvi, updates on the kids and the family as a whole bcus i am obsessed. hope yall enjoy.
You didn't know how it happened, you blinked and soon there were four. You had four kids running around your home filling it with innocent joy and laughter, and the occasional attitude. It was a full house and a busy life, but it could be enjoyable. You'd become a stay-at-home mom. At first, you weren't sure if you'd be able to manage, you loved your job a lot and worked extremely hard for it but with your growing family, your kids needed you more.
With Oscar opening a second restaurant you thought it'd be a good idea to bring up what's been gnawing away at you and he tells you that he's behind you no matter what path you choose. You put in your letter of resignation and bid your co-workers a teary-eyed farewell with promises to visit as much as they can. You had to admit it was a nice break, you didn't have to wake up as early, you weren't on your feet as much and the house was nice and quiet for a few hours when your children were either in school or at daycare. But then you had baby Rosie and your house had returned to a screaming, hollering mess.
She was a loud one and very expressive, babbled and cooed to anyone who would listen. "And then what happens after that?" You say laying next to her gently stroking her hair. She kicks her feet with excitement and responds in her usual baby language. "Oh my goodness." You respond. You could do this all day. You hated to admit it but you missed the baby stage so much and you were grateful for your little one. You'd been lounging around all day, only getting up to shower when she had fallen asleep and the occasional time when you needed to grab her bottle.
You pepper her chunky face in kisses and she squeals with happiness. "Que hermosa." You giggle. You two are so wrapped up in your world you don't even hear when the door unlocks and Oscar strolls in, he decides to check in on you since everything at the restaurant was going fine today. He notices the obvious vacancy of your presence downstairs and stumbles into the kitchen thinking you were feeding Rosie but he was wrong. He hears his baby's infamous noises from upstairs and smiles following the sweet noises. He creeps in on you two.
His head lolls to the side and rests on the door frame. He'd seen you like this many times (clearly) and it never got old. The way you lovingly interact with each child at any stage in their life, it was sweet to witness you give the same sweet eyes to Rafa at his big age as you did when he was a baby. Just a gentle reminder that he chose the right woman to marry, the best one to make a mother.
Rosie turns her little head and screams when her eyes land on her father. "Hola, mi corazoncito." He coos entering the room matching the same excitement as his baby which causes her to become even more riled up. He scoops her up and holds her in the air and all you can do is watch and grin like the Cheshire Cat. He brings her down and kisses her cheeks. "Cómo estás, mi mariposa?" He asks Rosie and she nuzzles her forehead in his cheek. Her nonverbal way of saying she missed him. Oscar takes his place next to you on the bed. "How are you, mama?"
You pucker your lips and he smiles dropping a kiss. You pout at how quick it was but quickly subsides when he gives you a forehead kiss. "I'm good. Sleepy. Hungry. Missing you."
"Missed you too, that's why I came home. And I brought some food from work."
You squinted. "Who cooked it?"
He chuckled. "Jason."
"Yes!" You fist pump. "Jason makes the best fucking food I swear."
Oscar's head seems to tilt even more, he's insulted by your statement but you smile sheepishly placing an encouraging hand on his shoulder. "Not as amazing as you do." He rolls his eyes and kisses your temple. Rosie babbles as her little reminder that she's still in the room. "No one forgot you chica" He affirms giving her some more smooches. "Let's go get mommy her food."
You sit up and stretch; some much-needed cracks are heard via your aching bones, and when your arms come down, you feel much looser and less tense than before. "It's okay, iré contigo." (I'll come with you.)
The three of you plop down the stairs and you part ways as Oscar heads to the kitchen while you shuffle to the living room and drop onto the couch, your lounging was short-lived when the doorbell rang. You huff getting back up on your feet. You swing the door open with a mean mug on your face until your eyes land on your mom and your features immediately soften.
"Hi, Mommy." You smile reaching out for her. "Hi sweetie, how are you?"
"I'm great," You pull her inside and close the door behind her. "What are you doing here?"
She shrugs off her jacket and hangs it up on the rack nearby, her shoes slip off her feet and she places those next to Spooky's on the mat. "Came to visit, figured you'd need some... company..." She trails off and— not so subtly— stretches out her neck to see if she can spot the baby. "Mhm." You say crossing your arms, you call bullshit.
"She's in the kitchen with Spooky."
And just like that, your mother leaves you in her dust. You hear her high-pitched, "Hiiiii GG's babyyyyy, helloooo." And you can't help but smile. Your mom always seemed to become happier with each grandchild you produced.
You begin to feel left out when you hear all the commotion in the kitchen so you decide to join them. Your daughter has your mom's nose in her small fist while your mom blows raspberries in her little tummy, she erupts with laughter and you catch a glimpse of Oscar with nothing but heart eyes for his baby girl. You sneak over to him and slide your arms around his abdomen, he drops his arm over your shoulder and draws you close. He plants a kiss on your head. The microwave beeps behind you signalling that whatever was in there had finished heating up. Your eyes widen when the aroma of cheese hit your senses. "Is that lasagna?"
He nodded. "Yeah. He made a little dish for you, told him you've been craving it lately."
You squeal with excitement as you take the hot dish out of the microwave, you set it on the counter and danced over to the drawers in hot search for a fork, your successful in finding one and greedily stick it inside the soft noodles that were jam packed with delicious ingredients. You take one bite and practically faint at the taste.
"Just needs one more thing." You think out loud, you hustle over to the pantry and grab a bag of barbecue chips, you snag a handful and crack them in your hand, sprinkling them on top. Oscar stands there... confused.
"Girl, what the hell is that?" Your mom asks equally appalled.
You shrug and take another bite. "It's good though." You muffle with a full mouth.
"I love you." Oscar sighs and you laugh at his adoration for anything you do, you blow him a kiss before taking another bite. You don't see it but your mom has her eye on you with a very interesting theory brewing in her head. Your husband's phone rings and he excuses himself to answer it leaving you alone with your mom and Rosie, who is quiet and happy on her grandmother's chest, her little eyes slowly closing with sleep.
You try your best not to make too much noise while you reach for more-
"Are you pregnant again?"
You nearly choke on your saliva at the ridiculous question. You quickly shake your head. "No!? Are you nuts? I just had her and she is the last one." You assure but your mom isn't believing it. "This little concoction says otherwise."
You roll your eyes. "I just... like pasta and chips... together."
It did sound ridiculous.
"Since when?"
"Like... a month ago..."
She sucks her teeth. "Mi amor, I'm telling you, I think you're pregnant."
This was insane, this was an insane conversation to be having. You were one hundred percent sure there was nothing and no one in your belly-- just the mere thought of having two under two was giving you the heebie-jeebies. "I'm just saying-"
You groan like the irritated teenager you once were, "Ay Mama, no más charlas de bebé, por favor." (No more baby talk, please.)
She agrees to ease off the topic but it remains in the back of her mind.
-- --
Later that day after Oscar's gathered the others from school, you sneak out of the house to do some grocery shopping. It was a bit of time for yourself, a time when you didn't have to keep your eye on your tiny little humans. You go through the aisles for the essentials and when that's done you browse for treats and snacks for your kids (that you and Oscar will eventually munch on as well.)
You cautiously approach the next aisle that is stacked with condoms, contraceptives and pregnancy tests. You meant to move, your hands ready to push the cart forward but your feet are firmly planted on the floor. You sigh and turn in, quickly grabbing a box and dumping it in the cart as though it's not for you. "She better be fucking wrong." You mutter to yourself.
-- --
With all kids fed, bathed and in bed before twelve it allows you to have the bathroom to yourself for a while. You wedge the knuckle of your index finger between your two rows of teeth, you stare at the box and sigh. "Please prove her wrong." You whisper to no one in particular. You pop open the box and rip open the wrapping of the test. One original and one digital. You sit on the toilet and do what you've done a hundred times, you pee on the sticks and set them aside until the timer goes off.
You clean yourself up and wash your hands, you know better than to just stand there and watch the sticks waiting for that fate-sealing answer but you go against yourself and stare. You're in a trance until there's a knock at the door, it startled you and you clutch your non-existent pearls for dear life. "Que?"
Oscar asks, "You good? Didn't need company tonight?" He's referring to your commonly shared showers which, now that you think about it, is probably one of the reasons you're in this predicament again!
"No, it's not that. I'm just..."
You huff and unlock the door swinging it open with displeasure on your face, your arms crossed as you nod over to the tests on the counter. His eyes follow your actions and pop out when he sees them. "How-"
"Mom said it was weird that I ate the lasagna like that."
He chuckled. "Didn't want to say anything."
You whine saying, "It's not funny, I just thought it was a change in my palette or something, I mix random foods all the time. I-" You searched for every excuse you could find. Oscar's face softens at the worry in your voice. "I just had Rosie." You sigh sounding depleted. You turn your back to the tests when you hear that all too familiar sound. You squeeze your eyes shut, if you don't look you won't know the answer and you can go about your merry way. Your husband offers to look for you and leans over. You hear the quietest gasp he's ever uttered and you know. You spin around to look at them yourself.
Positive. Both of them show positive.
You look up at Spooky and he's already looking at you waiting for your reaction so he can curate his own. "How do you feel about it?"
You shrug. You truly didn't know, you didn't even have words. Your throat was dry. You pick up one of them and look at it. And you feel nothing. Empty. Just waiting for a sense of gratitude to come across and for some reason, you can't seem to produce it. You put the test down and leave.
Spooky's still standing there with his heart in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he should've listened to you, that two was enough, and then three and four. He's after you, right on your heels as you enter your bedroom. You sit on the bed and fall back onto the sheets, you cover your eyes and shake your head at yourself and him. "I just had Rosie." You repeat to yourself. And then it happens. A tear slips and as quick as you are to wipe it, he knows you like the back of his hand— your breathing gets choppy and choked, you sniffle. The bed dips beside you and the sound of the sheets ruffling as he lays down.
"Háblame." (Talk to me)
You take a deep breath. You can be honest. "I don't know how I feel. I'm not sad but I'm not happy. I just hoped Rosie would be a little older. They all have good age gaps and- Oh god, what if they don't want another sibling? And Rosie and I spend so much time together, they just got used to her-- Emilia was so clingy when I had her, she felt so left out and-and-"
Oscar presses his hand over your thigh. "Cariño. Respirar. Por favor.
You breathe shakily. "It's okay not to know how to feel. If this is not what you want... I'm here for you, your moms here... the kids are here. We have more than enough, Sí?"
You nod. He reaches over and pulls you into him, you rest your forehead on his chest while he rubs smooth circles on your back. "We have some time for you to think about it right? It's your world mi amor, we're just living in it. I got you no matter what."
"Spooky."
"Mhm."
"Thank you."
He smiles and kisses your head. "It's my job baby."
— —
You'd been hiding your belly from everyone, even the kids. It was easy for the most part because you only wore baggy clothes and they made you look a little large anyway but then there were not so subtle signs— like the heavy breathing from doing just about anything, and your walk? Oh, your walk was not normal no matter how hard you tried. So you decide to come clean to your kids and other close family during a little gathering that Spooky's brother, Cesar, was hosting. Cesar was the only person who knew and you two asked if it'd be okay to announce it tonight.
He was fine with it, excited actually.
Your hands shake. You were cautious in deciding on having this baby, it took you a while to feel anything. At first, it was uncertainty, did you want another? Would you be crushed if you didn't have it?
But as the weeks passed you couldn't help but fall in love with the growth, the bigger you got the giddier you became. Modelling in front of the mirror any chance you got, and when all the kids were asleep you'd talk to your belly and giggle with every shift they made.
"Listo?" He asks and you nod confidently. Oscar whistles over to Cesar giving him a thumbs up. Cesar turns down the music to gather everyone's attention. "I just want to thank everyone for coming out, it's been a while since we've all been in one place, right?"
The crowd mumbles in agreement. "But it's great to see everyone in good health and good spirits—" He raises his Corona bottle and the crowd follows with their drinks (including the kids and their juice boxes) "Salud." He smiles.
"Salud." The crowd repeats. You clear your throat and enthusiastically say, "Oh let me see if I can get a picture. Everyone gets in."
They shuffle into one pile as best they can, you grab your phone and hold it landscape, you press record and say, "Alright everybody in... great, now saaaay... Y/n and Spooky are having another babyyyy!"
There were collective gasps, the word "what!?" Being thrown around in every language. "Excuse me!?" Your mom hollers. You unbutton your cardigan and turn to the side having worn a tight dress on purpose. "Surpriiiiiise." You sing out.
"I FUCKING KNEW IT!" Jasmine screams stretching her arms out for you, you gasp and playfully smack her hand. "Not in front of my kids, puta!"
She tells you to shut up and hug her, your mom joins in and soon the children and in that moment it hits how loved and supported you are by everyone around you. This was your village and it was a damn good one too.
Oscar's friends dap him up and congratulate him. They hug you as well and whisper that they hope it's another girl. They loved spoiling your daughters. Anything they asked for the boys were sure to buy it no problema.
"Well, actually," You begin to say. "We know what we're having."
Rafa, your oldest comes up to you. "Is it a boy?" His eyes gloss over with the hope that you would say yes, he'd been hoping that Emilia (your third) was going to be a boy but he lucked out. You had an idea. You hunch over to match his eye level. "You see that cake over there." You whisper and he nods. "Papi and I were going to cut it, but I think you should get the first slice."
He shrugs and you walk him over to the white cream frosted cake. You and Oscar help him hold the knife and carefully slide the blade into the spongey treat making one incision and you help him make another. He pushes the knife under to take the slice out and plops it on his plate, he reaches for a fork when he looks down to see the inside was blue.
Nobody spoke. Nobody moved with the understanding this was his moment. He looks up at you. "You're having a boy!?"
You nod with tears spilling over and ruining your makeup. "I am."
He puts the plate down and hugs you tightly and that's when the crowd goes wild. "Thank you, Mommy." He sobs which makes you cry even more. "Oh, you're welcome sweetie."
— —
Nine months had sped past you and it seemed as if it was just yesterday that you found out you were pregnant. Now, you lay on a hospital bed, covered over by a few blankets to help with post-partum shivers, your jaw rattling and fingers dancing involuntarily. But that wasn't your main focus.
Oscar hovered over you staring at the sleeping newborn in your arms. He made the cutest noises while he nuzzled against your chest. Your finger ghosts over his nose and he reacts by moving his head and sighing. "Are you sick of me already, mi hijo?(my son)" You joke nudging him with your nose. "You get used to her." Oscar chimes in and you suck your teeth hitting him as hard as you could. "Cállate culo."(Shut up, ass)
"Hitting me in front of my son?"
"And I'll do it again."
He smiles and leans down to kiss you. "You know I like you a little feisty, mami."
You sigh, so in love with your new baby, in love with your husband— just filled with overpouring affection. You can't stop staring at your new son and your husband couldn't stop gazing at either of you. He'd been in this room over and over and he swore up and down you made it look so easy, that you looked like a goddess bringing new air and life into this world. Even though you thought you looked like a monster from the swamp.
Oscar tells you in a loving tone. "You're doing an amazing job, seriously, you... you're just amazing."
You blink rapidly to keep tears from spilling over. When you met this man he was so rough and tough, such a brute that it seemed impossible to get him to even admit that he liked you, but under all that fake-cold persona, was the gentlest giant and the biggest sweetheart you'd ever met—a man who spreads nothing but positivity around you and your children.
"I'm so happy, I met you." He mutters. You were his wife, the mother of his children and his best friend rolled into one and that's all he wanted out of this life. You look up at him with glossy eyes. "I'm happy I met you too."
You share a kiss as a tear slips out, you just can't hold them back any longer. He kisses your forehead as his thumb swipes over your cheek. Your attention is drawn back to your son when he begins wiggling in your hold, you press your nose against his hair taking a whiff of that fresh baby smell. As you soak in the presence of your child, your husband's phone buzzes against the fabric of the diaper bag, he looks over and your mom's name catches his attention. He looks to you for some sort of permission and your brows furrow together. "It's okay."
He rushes over to answer, and just then your nurse walks in with a smile on her face. "Just came to check on mommy and baby." She announces.
"Ok... yeah, I'll meet you guys downstairs... bye." Oscar hangs up and looks over at you. "Your parents are here, with the kids. I'll just be back okay?"
"Mhm." You hum. He gives you a quick kiss before he speeds out of the room. The nurse smirks as she helps you adjust yourself into a somewhat comfortable sitting position, asking you if you'd like your son to be put back in the bassinet to which you respond yes and she gently takes him. "I apologize if this is forward but... I've seen a lot of couples in here and let me tell you, I've never seen anything like you two. He is so attentive."
You giggle. "Thank you. I just got really lucky with him."
A few minutes had passed and she had finished her check-up letting you know that she'd be back in a bit for another check-in. Once she left that's when your family, quietly, barged in. Oscar approaches you first with a sleeping Rosie in his arms and you happily reach for her and coddle her in your arms. Rafael, Elliana and Emilia gently charged over to you, shuffling off their shoes and finding their places on the bed with you. You greeted them as best as you could, with restricted movement all you could do was reach for their faces. Your parents and Oscar stand in the background of it all observing you in your motherly nature and Oscar can't fight the grin that has been plastered on his face since the day he met you.
"Baby." Emilia chimes in drawing everyone's attention to her now. "Yeah, mira, mommy had the baby."
Rafael seemed enamoured by the presence of his new sibling. He loved his sisters, you knew that, but by the looks of it-- this would be a special bond. "Rafa, would you like to hold him first?" Oscar asks.
He nodded eagerly and readied himself by sitting up straight and folding his arms. Oscar removes your son from his bassinet and carefully places him in Rafa's arms. The baby was a bit squirmy, upset that he'd been disturbed but with the soothing 'shhhh' from his mother's lips he settled down. Your two girls surround their brothers with curiosity.
Emilia giggles. "Hi, cutie."
"He's so tiny," Eliana mutters. Your parents finally make their way over to you after letting you have your moment with the kids. They congratulate you and your dad holds up a Chipotle bag and you beamed. "Thank you, this hospital food sucks." You whisper.
They attempted to take Rosie from you but you assured them it was fine, having missed her snuggles anyway. "Want me to feed you?" Your husband asks and you snicker shaking your head. "Está bien papito, I'll eat when I'm ready. But thank you."
— —
After all the kids had their turn holding the baby their attention spans had turned to you and their father, telling you everything that had happened since you left the house.
"And then Ellie licked the cookie and put it back in my bowl," Rafa whines and you hold back a laugh. "Eliana you do not do that, that's gross."
She shrugs and nuzzles closer to her grandfather on the couch who is causing a ruckus with all his snoring. Your mom nudges him awake and he hits his famous line, "I'm not sleeping, I just closed my eyes."
"Think it's time for us to go." Your mom says. "Um.." Rafa chimes. "Is it okay if I stay?"
"I- yeah, I guess so." You answer. Oscar says that you'll keep Rosie since she has now found a new sleep space in his arms. Your mom carries a sleeping Emilia and your dad carries Eliana on his back. They say their goodbyes and are out the door.
— —
The room is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Rafael had fallen asleep on the couch while Rosie, who'd only woken up to ear and fell back into slumber, lay under her older brother's arm. You sigh contently as you gaze at them.
"Did you ever think when we met at that laundromat, that we'd be here?" Oscar mumbled as he held your baby boy, tracing his finger along his little nose. You turn to him. You shrug.
"Maybe with one kid... two.... But not five." You joked. He chuckled.
"Did you?"
He nods. "I knew you were gonna be my girl from the moment I picked up that sexy red bra you dropped-"
"Spookyyyy." You gasped gently hitting his arm.
He laughs. "Que? Man, once I saw those cups I started barking."
"You are so fucking stupid."
He shrugs. "I know. But I'm stupid in love with you."
You playfully rolled your eyes at his corny, yet sweet, line.
"I'm stupid in love with you too."
if you liked this fic feel free to like this fic. comments and reblogs are appreciated.
hopefully, I'll be back a whole lot sooner.
peace and love
tags: @darqchilddaydreamz @realhotgurlshit @skyesthebomb @librarian1002
Who might be interested: @miyahmaraj @bigenergy777 @educatorsareslutstoo @missdforever
#marleysfanfictions#spooky fanfic#on my block#marleywrites#fluff#on my block fanfic#spooky fanfiction#on my block fanfiction#oscar diaz x black!reader#oscar diaz fluff
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“𝑨𝒑𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒊𝒔𝒆.”
Elias saves you from a creep
570 words
enjoy!
“You’re very skilled at this, how long have you been working here?”
You smiled, slightly embarrassed at the sudden compliment, “oh, haha, i’ve only been working here for a little while..”
As a result of the Brewhouse incident, the Warden set up another coffee house as reimbursement where you were guaranteed a job. You had only started a couple weeks ago, and settled in nicely with Elias and the Warden himself checking up on you to make sure you were safe at all times.
Most customers tended to be friendly, and it made the job enjoyable - especially since it was your strong suit; attentiveness and making good coffee. You always found it easy to interact with people and meet them halfway. Although, while it didn’t happen often, you’ve had your share of rude customers. It can be difficult to deal with, but you shouldn’t worry as your boyfriend protector would always be there for you.
“You know, it’s surprising that someone like you would be working in a cafe. With your looks, you could be on a magazine.” The man continued, trying to get your attention.
You could only laugh awkwardly, not knowing what to say. What you thought would have been a friendly interaction with a customer turned into unsolicited ass-kissing and it only made you feel uncomfortable.
“No, I’m being serious. You’re an attractive person.” The man insisted, “I wonder if you have a boyfriend, hmm?”
The question almost sounded threatening.
“Yeah, I do.” You replied. It was true. And while you wished he could be here, for now you could only hope that this would stop the customer from making any more comments.
You were wrong. He scoffed, “Oh don’t give me that. I don’t know why people these days always turn us nice guys down.”
Not sure how to respond, you turned around to sort out the drink you were in the middle of making.
“Don’t ignore me, you little bitch.” The man raised his voice. The sudden anger in his voice frightened you.
A sudden figure stepped forward. Elias’s furious eyes caught his, his strong arm pushing its way between the man and you behind the counter and forcing him to step back.
Elias towered over him, his serious face warning him to choose his next movements carefully.
“And what the fuck is your problem?” The man exclaimed angrily.
“My problem, is you.” Elias replied in a lowered husky voice. His narrowed eyes intimidating the angry customer, leaving him with no choice but to back down.
“Apologise.” Elias demanded.
The man scoffed again, “What? Who do you think you are?”
Elias’s grip on the man tightened. He swallowed, unsure if fighting was worth it.
“I don’t think you heard me, I said apologise.”
He tried to argue back but was shut down immediately.
“You think that you can just say whatever the fuck you want to them and get away with it?” His voice raised, filling the silence in the cafe.
The man attempted to push Elias back and after failing, hurried towards the door, cursing under his breath.
Elias turned to you. “Are you okay?”
You nodded.
He made his way around the counter. “Has he come in here before?”
You replied, “I think so, yeah.”
“You let me know if he bothers you again. Him or anyone else, you tell me okay?”
He tucked hair behind your ear and kissed your forehead.
i’ve had the first draft of this in my inbox for absolutely ages without knowing how to write it out but i finally managed it!! honestly i don’t know how this happened lmao, originally i wanted to write something where elias gets jealous but then it morphed into this as i wanted to experiment with elias being more protective. thanks for reading, i hope you enjoyed!
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“Nice girls also aren't going for a 40-something "but Daddy I can fix him" junkie drunk with untreated mental illness and possibly a paranoia disorder.” Sometimes I wonder if they regret marrying. They both had people tell them to slow down and get to know each other and we all know how that turned out. I’d say she’s back to where she started when they met but she’s not. She doesn’t have a blog like the Tig (it wasn’t big but it was something and it had a focus). Yes, she’s given out jam but that’s it, there is nothing else so far. ARO is just a website right now. Yes, her house is bigger, but if rumors are true, it’s not insurable due its location (fires and mudslides) and its daily maintenance costs have to be a drain. Yes, she has a title but no one cares about it except her. Yes, she’s more well known now but does not have a good reputation in several countries and most people just aren’t interested.
As for him, for as awful as he’s shown himself to be, he did give up pretty much everything for her. Again, it was a choice he made even after his friends and family warned him. I’m not surprised he’s floundering now.
I wonder if they’ve had moments of whether or not this marriage and all it entails is worth it. Sometimes getting what you wish for comes at a price.
I think Meghan still thinks everything she’s gone through has been worth it. Her life has completely changed - she has a $14 million mansion in Montecito, she’s besties with the Kardashians, she’s spent private time with the most iconic royal family, she has designer clothes, she has people working for her, she gets to talk about herself, she has her own Netflix show and a podcast, and she gets to travel for free around the world on other people’s money.
Remember where she was in 2015 when this started: a 2-bedroom rental condo in Toronto, a job she wasn’t very important in, Canadian socialite friends that no one in the US knew at all, mall clothes, a blog no one followed, she had to talk about work instead of herself, and she had to pay for her own traveling (which she subsidized through her blog that no one really paid attention to)a
Yeah, she also has money problems and a husband who doesn’t give two cents about the way he looks and smells (allegedly) and her kids are the subjects of some nasty conspiracy theories. But all that can be ignored with “out of sight, out of mind.” So she doesn’t really see this as consequences, the way you or I would.
She loves this life. She loves that people know who she is and she loves that we have opinions of her. It doesn’t matter if we love her or hate her, as long as we feel something about her. Indifference will be what kills Meghan; we see this in the way the BRF and Hollywood bigwigs are treating her. They’re completely indifferent to her and what she does and it’s fun to watch her scramble and beg for their attention.
Unlike Harry. Harry wants to be loved and respected. He wants us to fall over ourselves in worship and praise of his name. Indifference kills him too, but hatred and dislike are even worse. That’s what William does - he’s not indifferent to Harry, he’s actively staying away and making his dislike known by refusing to meet with him or answer his phone calls.
So Harry sees the consequences of this marriage much more than Meghan does because he has literally lost everything; he lost the status that made people respect him, he lost the friends that liked him, he lost a public that adored him, and he lost the family that loved him.
That’s why Meghan has to be really strategic with the divorce, if she’s the one who leaves. Harry has literally and metaphorically given everything up for her. She’s going to have a very hard time convincing the court of public opinion that she’s miserable being attached to Harry because of all that he’s lost and gave up for her.
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ＸＳ ＫＳＪ
Pairing - Jupe! Dark! Kim Seokjin x AFAB! Reader
Synopsis-Based off NOPE, you and your friend visit a new attraction called Jupiter's Claim, and a grown up child actor begins to fall for you. Part One of the Movies Series
Featuring - Megan Fox
Word Count - Around 2k
Tags and Warnings - Kidnapping, Allusions to Death
Authors Note - While studying the movie and pulling what I wanted, Steven Yuen was looking FARRRR TEW FINE. Also cried at the end, the unknown is scaryyyy
A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! These depictions don't pertain to reality. This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!
You hated RV parks.
You felt trapped at Megan's make-up artist job. The only benefit you had was being able to be around the horses they had brought in regularly. You stood by one in particular, Lucky, and next to .him was a quiet man, who you learned his name was Oj.
You knew better than to not bother him as he seemed on edge, but you liked being around Lucky. You would pet her mane, and just like being around her.
Soon however, Megan finally had her things together and motioned towards you. Letting out a sigh you wave towards Oj. “Bye, thanks for letting me hang out with you.”
“It’s nothin’.” He mumbled singling you off with a hand gesture.
“You like him or something?” Megan said walking next to you as you guys walked to her RV. You laugh her off slightly shoving her.
“Nah, I liked Lucky though. Oj was pretty chill, he just kind of let me be around. Guess I wasn't pestering him like the rest of that crew…” You deduct making your way inside her RV. You had your own space, in which you settled in. You dropped down on your bean bag exhausted. “Besides didn’t you want to go to that attraction or something?”
“Jupiters Claim? Of course, I paid good money for it, so you can bet your candy ass we’re going to see what's there.” You groan at Megan's want to go to some random attraction. You honestly rathered the RV at that point.
“Fine, just let me rest before we head out. You know I hate being out there in the sun like that.” You complain. Megan lets out a small squeal as she tackles you onto your small bean bag.
“Thanks! I could just kiss you right now!”
“Mhmm, the things I do for you.”
🏇
Walking into the attraction you were quickly put off. The old-time Western theme wasn't appealing to you at all. But from what Megan had told you on the way there, she wasn't there for the actual attraction. “I’m telling you, that kid Jupe, from Gordies Home, he owns this place.” Megan raves leading you towards the back of the attraction up towards the staircase to the main office. “I paid good money to see his memorabilia and talk to him.”
“Why not use it for something valuable, like a nice piece of jewelry or something?” You say walking behind her as she opens the door.
“Because I had extra money lying around and well I wanted to spend it.” Walking inside you were greeted by two people, one of them being a lady in a baby blue dress, cowboy hat, and boots complete the look. She stood talking on the phone and Megan tapped on the class making a motion towards the back door.
The lady smiled and gave a thumbs-up before getting back on the phone. Megan led you into the back office space. Sitting behind the desk was a man in a white top, obviously fitting the western aesthetic. His hair was black and slicked back, lips curving into a sweet smile. “Megan right?” He asked looking at her and shaking her hand.
Then his eyes turn to look into yours. He stood in a daze looking at you.
You give him an awkward smile and take his hand. He shakes his head and takes your hand in a firm grasp. “Sorry, I should’ve said something about bringing her around,” Megan begins clearing her throat. Even she could tell it was awkward. “She's cool people trust me.” Jupe seemed to be in his own world before finally pulling away.
“Oh it's fine, you know I don't usually let people bring others around, but just this once I'll let it slide.” He says laughing. He steps from behind the desk and puts a hand on the small of your back to move past you. You jump and look at him, Jupe giving you a smirk before continuing to move past you.
Megan smiles laughing along with him. “Trust me she's like a tag along, real chill.”
He smiles turning to look at you. “Let's just hope you’re a real Gordies Home lover.”
“Trust me, I’m really not.” You say laughing awkwardly. You really wanted to leave already.
🏇
Once his tour was over you felt weird about it all. Megan was ecstatic though, finally coming one step closer to one of her special interests. She asked questions the entire time, while you stood at the door pensive.
Megan then dismissed herself to take a call. This left you inside with Jupe. “So, are you usually traveling with her while she does makeup?” He asks as you stand near the window peering outside, watching Megan. You turn around nodding at him.
“No, I just tagged along when she invited me.” You say before speaking up again. “Listen I’m sorry if she was just being a lot in there. She's my friend but I know you have feelings and all.” You say looking at him. He seemed to be lost in his own world before snapping back to reality.
He blows out smiling. “It's right really, thanks for caring though. But let's not focus on that. What do you do for a living?” He said standing up and laughing, making his way closer to you.
You laugh with him awkwardly. “A horse jockey. Yeah, I mean when I saw some of the horses you guys had, I was excited. Like a way to be committed to the western theme.” You ramble on leaning by the window. You really just kept talking to not focus on how close he was getting towards you.
He nodded smiling towards you and sat on his desk, his body close to yours. “Yeah, I know a ranch where I get them, real quiet bunch… I bet you’d like that wouldn’t you?” He said looking at you.
“Like what?”
“You don't seem to fit the whole being a side character to Megan's story. Like just look at you, you’re just gorgeous.” Jupe rambled leaning in. You leaned back as he got closer. “I think honestly you’d like it here. I can make you a star ya’ know.”
You tilted your head shaking it at him. “Listen Jupe-”
“Jin. The name is Jin.”
“Jin, I’m not really interested in whatever you’re trying to do. I’m just here because I want to support my friend.” You say putting your hands out to put some space between the both of you. “I’m not here for my claim to fame moment.” Jin shakes his head, pursing his lips together.
“You sure you don’t want more than what you have? You never even considered all you could have is someone, who gave you a chance at getting it?” He rambled. His hand went back as he grabbed a stapler on his desk. “I can make you happy… happy with me.”
Seeing him go for it you ducked as he first swung it. Your back hit one of the walls, your hand trying to stop the blow. But that failed as you instead injured your wrist. You held onto it losing your grip on the wall. “Get the fuck away from- AH!” You’re cut off by the stapler hitting your head. You see a bright light before you officially are knocked out.
Jin let out a deep breath as he dragged you into his memorabilia room. Jin closed the door, locking it, but not before making sure you were knocked out. Just around then, Megan comes back inside looking around. “Sorry, did she leave or something?” She asked looking around. Jin nodded going to sit back behind his desk.
“Yeah, she said she had a headache or something. Talked about going back to you guys RV.” He said snidely. “Did she not tell you before leaving?”
“No… Thank you once again, I'll head back now.”
🏇
He kept you in that room for weeks.
Only just recently were you moved out from there, and put in one of his set dressing houses.
He preached about falling for you and wanting to spend his days with you. Laying with you late at night, his hands around your waist. He laid kisses on your neck as he would tell you sweet nothings, yet what was even more messed up was that the entire time you were chained to the foot of the bed.
Of course, the chain had some length but still, you felt as if it was fruitless to escape. But you didn’t dare stay locked up forever. Especially after he told you Megan filed a missing persons report for you and had been asking around for and about you.
She even decided to go to his live show just to get her mind off things.
So you began walking and dragging the bed as you walked around the home. The bedframe would hit the door and you pulled at it hoping to snap off the leg the chain was hooked to. You kept doing it until it was the day.
The day of Jins live show.
Jin stood in front of you showing off his tailored suit. “Do you like it my Star?”
You hated that nickname.
“Yeah, I-It’s amazing… It’s really fancy.” You replied feeding into his decisions. Jin smiled and kissed your lips. Before standing up and heading for the door.
“Be safe okay, after this I’ll be back, and Amber will be gone.” He smiled wickedly walking out and locking the door. She was one of the reasons he moved you here. He wanted you away from his wife, who obviously hated you. You could've sworn whenever you did have to stay trapped in his office, that she tried to poison you more times than once.
But that's beside the point.
You heard the sounds of people, music everything. You spent that day continuing on your escape. You finally pulled off the leg and started banging a heavy piece of the chain on the doorknob.
The loud PA system made you speed up as you growled slamming the chain on the knob. The incessant drone of Jin talking acts as background noise to what you are focused on.
“And so, as I said, in just under an hour, ‘The Star Lasso Experience’ is gonna change you.“
CLANG!
“Stay in your seats. So that was new. They’re early...”
CLANG!
You let out a loud fuck as you cry out.
Then you hear it.
Screaming.
You stop what you're doing as the wind blows in the distance, the same amount of distance as you hear the screams. It's droning and you stop what you're doing to cover your ears, your head hurting at the sound. You wait as it all goes away before you put down the chain realizing you were probably in a life-or-death situation. With one final kick, you knock the door down.
Looking around you see that Jupiter's Claim is a mess. You couldn’t even begin to figure out what happened. But you begin to clamber away, your body hurting as you do so. You hadn’t moved like this in a while.
You make eye contact with a man. It hits you exactly who it is, Oj.
He stares at you too in shock. “Help…” Was all you could muster up to say to him. He makes a motion for you to follow him and you do. You speed up getting into the truck as he grabs Lucky.
“Just get me the fuck out of here now.”
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The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 41]
Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy
Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)
Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho
Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?
Word count: 3.4K
Last week...
"Before everyone goes off for the night, can I have you all gather in the front for a bit? I would like to make an announcement." Yunho poked his head into the kitchen. You all glanced at each other then nodded your heads.
"What's up, boss man?" Wooyoung asked, emerging from the kitchen with the rest of you in tow. You and Seonghwa leaned against the counter, with you resting your head against his shoulder.
"It won't take long. So, our one year anniversary of the shop being open is drawing near." Yunho smiled.
"Damn, it's been a year, already?" Hongjoong let out a long exhale.
"To celebrate and thank you all for your efforts, we'll be closing for the entire week next week. I've booked a beach house in Yeosu, we'll drive up and spend a few days there." Yunho smiled.
"Wait, are you for real?" San blinked, smiling in excitement. Yunho nodded with a grin.
"Woah! Vacation!" Mingi cheered, hi-fiving Yeosang.
"It'll be a nice break. Enjoy the outdoors away from the busy city life." Seonghwa shrugged.
"Eww, grandpa." You and Wooyoung stuck your tongues out with disgust. Seonghwa just rolled his eyes, used to yours and Wooyoung's taunting jokes. Since you were the closest to him, Seonghwa wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into a noogie while you yelled in protest.
"Hwa!" You squealed as everyone just looked on, this was normal to them now and would rather not get involved with yours and Seonghwa's bickering.
"Call me old again!" He threatened. You pinched his waist, making him squirm and let you go.
"Anyway, considering the number of people and the amount of luggages we'll have, I rented 3 vans." Yunho informed.
"Nice. We can take turns driving." Jongho smiled. Yunho gave more details abouts this 'retreat' vacation but everyone was only partially listening, being too excited to listen.
"Thanks, Yunho ah. We're all looking forward to it." The boys all thanked Yunho.
"Heading back with us?" Jongho asked you.
"Whiskey's with Yunho so I'm staying at his tonight." You said. They nodded and gave you hugs. Seonghwa kissed your temple and squeezed your hand before they went to their cars. You slung your bag over your shoulder and went back to the front.
"Staying at Yunho's tonight?" San tilted his head. You nodded, smiling softly, watching Yunho and Yeosang work over the computer for the restaurant's social media page.
"It's really been a year, huh? Time flies quickly when you're so busy." Mingi snorted.
"Yeah. And just like that, my contract here with the crew is ending." You pointed out. Mingi and San looked at each other.
"But... you're resigning... right?" San looked at you with uncertainty. You didn't know, that was something you would have to discuss with Yunho when the time comes.
"I don't know what the future holds. And if Seonghwa, Wooyoung or Jongho want to leave. I won't stop them." You shrugged.
"That's nice of you, (y/n)." Mingi complimented.
"I'm not their boss or owner. They can go where ever they want. They're always being offered positions in high class, top of the line restaurants but turn them down to stick with me." You chuckled.
"You work well as a team, anyone can see it through the way you communicate and work. Having to leave this good synergy and work with strangers in a bigger, more high pressured environment is a lot on a person, emotionally, physically and mentally." San pointed out. You nodded in agreement.
"Ready to go?" Yunho jogged over, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You nodded and waved to the others before heading to the back with Yunho.
"What were you guys talking about?" He asked as he retrieved his bag and coat from the locker room.
"Nothing important." You shrugged. He hummed and held your hand, giving you a kiss on the forehead, leading you out to his car.
"So, what do you think of the trip? Excited? I don't know if you're an outdoors person but I thought some peace in the countryside might be good and-" You cut Yunho off by pressing your lips to his.
"It sounds like it'll be fun, Yunho. With you and the boys." You pulled away with a soft smile on your lips.
"I'm glad. You deserve a break." He gave you a dreamy, dazed smile, making you laugh.
"We all do." You corrected and Yunho nodded. His family and Seonghwa's family had been constantly checking up on you after the fight with your father, you were truly grateful.
"Alright, let's go back to Whiskey before he starves to death. And by the way, my parents said they'll take care of him while we're away so you don't have to worry about him, okay?" Yunho started the car and drove back to his place.
"Sure, I'll cook or bake something to bring to them when we drop Whiskey off. To thank them properly." You smiled.
You hummed to yourself as you packed snacks and drinks into the cooler for the trip. Seonghwa and Jongho were behind you, making sandwiches for everyone.
"I'm here. Sorry I'm late, Kyungmin wouldn't let me go." Wooyoung groaned as he burst through the door.
"You stayed at your parents' place last night?" Seonghwa asked.
"I needed to borrow dad's suitcase so I brought stuff there, packed it into the suitcase and slept there." Wooyoung yawned, shuffling over and throwing his arms around you.
"Morning. Mingi and Hongjoong hyung are getting the other two vans." Yunho came out, fresh from the shower.
"Hey." You all greeted him back. Yunho came over and leaned in to give you a kiss.
"I'm right here." Wooyoung mumbled, still glued to your side with Yunho's body draped over his.
"No one asked you to be here." You squirmed to make him release his grip on you. You grabbed the huge jar of cold brew coffee from the fridge and put it into the cooler as well. Yunho chuckled and grabbed himself a mug of coffee as he looked over what all of you were packing for the trip.
"It's only a 4 hour drive and there'll be food there, you know? No need to pack the whole kitchen." He joked when he saw the amount of food that was being made and packed.
"Just in case anyone gets hungry. There's 9 of us. And you and Seonghwa hyung each eat for 3 people." Jongho reminded.
"Rude." Seonghwa hit the back of Jongho's head.
"Alright. We're done. Let me go grab my last minute things." You washed your hands and jogged to the room, not knowing that Yunho was behind you.
"You're bringing Yuyu and Yunnie?" Yunho asked, leaning against the door fram as he sipped his coffee.
"I'm gonna ignore the underlying judgement in your tone." You scoffed, tucking Yuyu under one arm and Yunnie under the other.
"No judgement at all, love. It's cute." He chuckled, coming over to kiss the crown of your head. You sent him a skeptical look but brushed past him to go out, placing Yuyu and Yunnie on your luggage, which was already packed and ready.
"Mingi and Hongjoong hyung are downstairs with the rest. Shall I asked them to come upstairs or are we ready to head down?" Yunho asked, looking at his phone.
"We're ready." Wooyoung said. You did a final check that all the lights and electronics in your house was off before you all went down.
"Good morning." The other boys greeted.
"Morning." You all replied back. San, half asleep, smiled and came over to hug you. Your eyes widened in surprise but laughed and patted his back.
"Sleep in the van, Sannie." You cooed. He nodded his head with a cute hum. Yunho scowled, dragging San away from you.
"So how are we splitting into the vans?" Yeosang asked once all the bags were loaded into the backs of all 3 vans.
"I'm driving one of the vans first and (y/n)'s with me no matter what so we need one more person." Yunho raised his hand, voicing out quickly. Besides Yunho, it seemed that Mingi and Hongjoong were the other two drivers, for the first part of the trip that is. You raised an eyebrow.
"Who says I wanna be with you? I always ride with Hwa." You asked. Yunho's jaw dropped slightly while Seonghwa snickered.
"But... But we're always together." Yunho frowned with a pout.
"We all drive so rotating drivers will be easy. The first batch of drivers will drive to the first rest stop at least." Hongjoong said, ignoring Yunho's whines.
"Good plan." You hummed. In the end, it was decided that you would ride with Yunho and Jongho. Mingi, San and Wooyoung would take one van while Hongjoong, Seonghwa and Yeosang the last van.
"You always give into him." Mingi shook his head.
"Like you don't. You've been giving into him longer than I have." You poked the taller's chest.
"True. Because he gives into me a lot too." Mingi laughed, wrapped an arm around your shoulders. He pressed his head into your temple as you shared a laugh.
"Hey, we have to get going!" Yunho yelled. You patted Mingi on the back and went to your van. Seonghwa gave out food, snacks and drinks to all the vans. You poured out coffee into to go cups for those that wanted it for the drive.
"As expected, travelling with chefs is indeed different." Yeosang laughed and sipped his coffee. After Jongho handed out the walkie talkies to everyone, you all jumped into your vans and drove out.
"You and Mingi hyung were awfully friendly." Jongho coughed.
"Shut up, Jong." You rolled your eyes, getting comfortable in the passenger seat with Yuyu and Yunnie.
"Don't pout. Jongho's just tryna start something." You reached over to pinch Yunho's cheek. Climbing over the middle console, you gave him a kiss on the cheek.
"Ugh I shouldn't have chosen the van with the couple." Jongho faked a gag of disgust.
"What, you jealous? Want me to give you a kiss on the cheek too?" You teased, making Jongho stick his tongue out at you.
"You should get some sleep, love. It'll be a while until the first rest stop." Yunho turned to cast you a soft smile. You shook your head, unwrapping a sandwich to eat.
"Here, we'll share." You chewed, holding it out to Yunho to take a bite. You knew he was always hungry, just like Seonghwa. And he wouldn't feel tired if he's eating. After turning your head to offer Jongho a sandwich, you noticed that he was already asleep. But you kept yourself awake, wanting to accompany Yunho.
"What can we do when we get there?" You asked, taking another bite of the sandwich.
"There's a beach a few minutes walk away from the house so activities will be beach stuff like play in the sand, swim, all that sort of things." Yunho informed.
"Play in the sand?" You laughed with a raised eyebrow.
"Hey, I make a mean sandcastle, alright?" Yunho scoffed. You giggled and settled further into the seat.
"Seriously, my love. Go to sleep, hmm? I'll be fine, not even tired. Infinite golden retriever energy, remember?" Yunho coaxed. You rolled your eyes.
"Fine. But wake me if you feel like you're falling asleep or ask Jongho to take over." You said.
"Yes, ma'am. And I'm offended you think I would put you in such danger." Yunho squinted his eyes at you.
Pulling your jacket over your legs, you held Yuyu and Yunnie, leaning against the corner between the seat and the door behind closing your eyes and letting sleep take over you. It wasn't hard considering you barely slept last night, packing for the trip.
*KNOCK KNOCK*
You jumped when the tapping on the window jolted you awake. You sat up properly, looking around and seeing Seonghwa's standing outside the car door.
"Rise and shine, sweetheart. We're at the first rest stop." Seonghwa cooed, brushing the hair away from your face.
"Come on." Seonghwa helped you out of the passenger seat.
"Wait, where's Yunho?" You yawned, not even realising Yunho was right behind you. You held Seonghwa's hand, letting him lead you since you were still half asleep.
"I'm here, love." Yunho chuckled, finding you absolutely adorable with how you followed Seonghwa like a lost child.
"Still sleepy, love?" Yunho asked as he sat beside you on the seat. You nodded and leaned against his shoulder. He put his arm around you to keep you warm. Once Seonghwa made sure you were secured with Yunho, he went off with the rest to get some food. Rest stop snacks was always good.
"Wakey wakey, jagiya. We got food." Seonghwa and Wooyoung put the tray of food down. Mingi and San were behind, carrying trays of more food for everyone.
"Drinks too." Jongho and Hongjoong came. You sat up, stretching your hands over your head.
"Here." Yeosang handed you a quarter of a fried potato. You smiled and blew on it before putting it in your mouth.
"Yummy." You let out little sounds of happiness. Using the same stick, you grabbed a rice cake from Seonghwa's bowl and ate it. Then you fed one to Yunho.
"Yunho hyung, I'll take over driving the second half so you can sleep." Jongho said as he chewed.
"Yeah, sure. Thanks." Yunho said before stealing a bite of Mingi's ramen, making the other tall male move the bowl away possessively.
After everyone finished eating, you all returned your trays. Then the group split up, some went to the drinks stand to get drinks for the road while the others went to get some more snacks to eat in the car. You stood in line with San on your arm.
"What are you getting?" Hongjoong leaned over to ask you. You squinted your eyes to look at the menu that was far away.
"Hwa won't let me have another coffee considering I drank most of what is in the cooler already... I think I'll have a strawberry basil cooler." You decided.
"Ooh, that sounds nice. Me too!" San raised his head from your shoulder and declared.
"Oh, Seonghwa wanted the mango yoghurt blend." You said, checking your phone to make sure you got Seonghwa's order right.
"Sure." Hongjoong stepped up to give all the orders to the counter person. She smiled sweetly at Hongjoong then her eyes trailed to San, who was still clinging onto you.
"You're both handsome." The girl complimented, eyes still cast on you, trying to get a reaction out of you.
"Thanks, Joong. We'll wait at the end. Come, Sannie." You walked to the end with San, not even acknowledging the girl at the counter. The girl's jaw dropped slightly at how you were nonchalant about it. You weren't possessive or 'bitchy' seeing another girl flirt with the guys that you were with.
"You're funny, (y/n). Seriously, you're like a black cat." Hongjoong laughed as he walked over to where you and San were waiting for the drinks. You felt San nod in agreement.
"What does that even mean?" You scoffed.
"That girl was trying to get a reaction out of you by flirting with us. And you didn't even blink twice." San explained.
"Oh... Well, she can flirt with you guys if she wants. Those things don't really bother me, I guess. Girls flirt with Yunho all the time, normal to me." You shrugged.
"As expected, very black cat of you to not be bothered." Hongjoong patted your shoulder.
"Still don't know what that means." You chuckled.
"It's okay, just know you and Yunho are like... match made in heaven." San smiled, patting your head. You sent him an odd look but rolled your eyes.
"This is everything." Hongjoong gave out your drinks to you and San. You carried Seonghwa's in your free hand so San opened the straw and stuck it into your drink for you. Once everything was secured, the 3 of you left to find the others.
"Here you go, Hwa." You handed Seonghwa his drink before separating back to your respective vans.
"Sit with Yunho hyung in the back, I'm good up front. Just no PDA or I might throw myself out of the moving vehicle." Jongho said to you as he moved his things to the passenger seat.
"That last part aside, are you sure? I can sit up front with you. Yunho's not 3." You chuckled.
"I'm sure." He squeezed your hand.
Of course, Yunho wouldn't try to convince you to sit in the passenger seat. He was ecstatic, the moment he laid his head in your lap, he was out like a light.
"Wow, don't think I've seen anyone fall asleep so quickly." You laughed softly, brushing Yunho's fringe.
"You know, Mingi and San were talking to me about our contracts. It's almost done. And they asked what our plans were." You spoke.
"Oh, right... I didn't even think about that but I guess it's almost up since it's been a year. Considering that, I haven't even thought about what to do after the contract ends." Jongho said, his voice not giving anything away. You let out a small hum, nodding your head slowly. You looked down at Yunho's face.
"You know Yunho hyung wouldn't want you to stay just because of him. You'll still have a great relationship whether you're working there or not. He would want you to go where you want to go." He added.
"Yeah, I know. He's too nice. But I don't know yet. What about you? Do you think you'll go up?" You asked back.
"Not sure. I'll go where you go." He shrugged.
"You guys always go where I go, turning down such great opportunities. Don't you wanna be a sous chef in a big kitchen?" You chuckled, still fiddling with Yunho's fringe.
"If I wanted to be a sous chef, I would have taken the title when you offered it to me." He pointed out.
"That's not what I'm referring too. Come on, you all can make a name for yourselves, not be like me, jumping from kitchen to kitchen."
"Sounds like you're letting your dad's words get to you... But anyway, the only reason we've broadened our skills and gained all this food knowledge under our belts is because we're moving from kitchen to kitchen with you. Which is good." Jongho replied.
"My heart wants to stay with Yunho and the others. My brain wants me to move on, find another kitchen to learn and grow in." You sighed, leaning against the door.
"Well, sit your brain and heart down at a table and make them work it out. Like a mediation." Jongho chuckled.
"Right. If only it were that easy." You laughed.
Finally, after a couple more hours of driving, all the vans pulled up to big beach house villa. You and the boys were in awe at how grand the place was.
"Okay, how are we splitting rooms? There are two rooms in the basement, two upstairs and one on this level." Yunho asked.
"(y/n)'ll get her own room, I'm assuming?" Wooyoung turned to you. Before Yunho could interject, you nodded.
"Well, if that's okay with all of you, I'll gladly take the room or I can room with Hwa." You asked the rest for their approval, who nodded their heads too.
"No, wait a minute. Stop, (y/n)'s not rooming on her own or with Seonghwa hyung. I'm rooming with (y/n). You guys can split the rest of the rooms and fight over who is bunking solo." Yunho corrected, speaking on your behalf. You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow of amusement at him.
"Thanks, everyone. I'll take the room with the connected bathroom." You waved and grabbed your bags, going upstairs. Jongho helped you. Yunho's jaw dropped as you just left him there.
"This is going to be an eventful getaway for sure." You chuckled. Jongho nodded in agreement, laughing as he put your bag down.
"As long as I'm not caught in the middle of Seonghwa hyung, Wooyoung hyung and Yunho hyung fighting for your bed." He laughed, making you facepalm.
Secretly, you didn't mind the bickering. With everything that happened with your father, you were just happy to have all of them with you.
~
Series masterlist
#kpop#kpop scenarios#kpop series#ateez#ateez scenarios#ateez series#ateez imagines#ateez x reader#ateez yunho#yunho ateez#yunho#yunho scenarios#yunho series#yunho x reader#yunho x you#yunho x y/n#jeong yunho#jeong yunho scenarios#jeong yunho series#jeong yunho x reader
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Nothing Matters in Paris - Liu Yang Yang (chapter one)
INCLUDES: fem!reader x "teacher"!yang yang, swearing, age gap, yang yang is like 10 years older than he actually is, fluff, smut, angst(?), somnophilia, fingering, katoptronophilia, degrading, name-calling, cockwarming, idk if i go everything so just lmk what i've forgotten.
wc: 2k
a/n: please DNI if you're not comfortable with the "teacher" x student dynamic, the dynamic was explained better in the profiles post. however, as the story goes on you will understand how and why yang yang is classified as a teacher. ALL CHARACTERS ARE OVER THE AGE OF TWENTY-ONE!
“good morning class, this will be my last class teaching you for the year.” our music teacher says, a smile on her face. a loud chorus of shock erupted in the class at the news.
“ten dollars she says she’s pregnant” shotaro whispers from the right of me. i nod my head agreeing. “she’s started glowing recently, i wouldn't be surprised if she is.” i say.
“i’m going to be on maternal leave from tomorrow until a few months after my little one is born,” the teacher pauses with a smile. “i have mr. qian coming in to teach you all until the stand-in teacher comes in next week.” just as she finishes her sentence mr. qian walks into the classroom.
“hi guys.” he says happily, his black hair slicked back in his usual fashion while wearing what looks like bike gear. as if he could sense my gaze, mr. qian turns his head towards me while taking off his motorbike jacket, a smile placed on his face as he reveals the tight black shirt he was wearing.
“i’m just here to sit in and see where you guys are up to.” mr. qian turns away from me as he speaks to the class. “also i would prefer if you guys called me kun. mr. qian is my father.” kun’s smile doesn’t leave his face.
before long, mrs. rivas starts the class. “we’ll be doing our group projects now, just so kun has a fair idea of what our class is about.” mrs. rivas looks through the paper on her desk quickly. “shotaro and y/n you two are up first.” her voice is soft as she looks at shotaro and i with a smile on her face.
taro and i make our way up to the front of the class and look at each other, anxiety in both of our eyes. “uh, hello.” shotaro begins awkwardly earning giggles from a few of the girls in the class. i look at taro and nod my head in reassurance. “we got this.” i whisper to him, he nods his head and takes a deep breath.
“y/n and i will be performing our favourite song, Love Wins All by IU. we hope you like it” shotaro steps back and clicks play on the backing track we had both spent time on making together. taro starts off the song, turning to me as he starts singing. i nod with a smile and give him a thumbs up.
as the pre-chorus starts coming up, i start hearing the loud beating of my heart in my ears. i’m sure shotaro senses my fear as he steps closer towards me and grips my hand in his. “you’ve got this.” taro whispers into my ear.
the next moment i open my eyes, everyone is smiling and clapping. taro throws his arm over my shoulders as he smiles widely down at me. “you did it! i’m proud of you!” he says and brings me in for a hug.
i pull away from shotaro with a shy smile and bow. “thank you.” i squeak. mrs. rivas stands up and claps with a wide smile. “you two did amazing. what are your thoughts mr. qian?” her voice is quiet as she watches kun cross his arms over his chest, a frown on his face as he studies shotaro and i.
“you two have a real talent,” he pauses as he nods. “although it would be nice to see you more confident in yourself y/n, you have the talent a lot of people would die for.” kun uncrosses his arms and claps. “good job, truly.” he smiles softly.
shotaro and i look at each other baffled. kun was never one to give out praises to students unless they were truly talented, he had a knick for picking out the next big name. shotaro bows instantaneously as we begin walking towards our seats.
kun was quick to wave us off with a smile and a small shake of his head. “did kun just complement us, specifically you though?” shotaro stares at me wide-eyed, the laugh that escaped my lips was quiet as i coo and squish his cheeks.
“you’re so cute, i just want to eat you.” i giggle, shotaro frown with a scoff and swats my hands away from his face.
“i’m anything but cute!” he defends himself. i nod tauntingly and watch as shotaro scoffs again and sits back in his chair while crossing his arms across his chest. “i’m not talking to you for the rest of the day.” shotaro states and turns his back towards me.
i laugh wholeheartedly at his outburst and poke his side, he jolts and almost falls off his chair. “don’t do that, i’m mad at you” he whispers harshly. “uh-huh.” i drawl out and watch as he side eyes me before turning back around in his chair.
“how old are you again, taro?”
shotaro says nothing but gives me his middle finger. “you know damn well, we’re the oldest people in this class other than the teachers.” shotaro says.
“it’s not our fault our gap year turned into a four-year-long gap year.” i shrug with a laugh. shotaro and i vowed to have a gap year after graduating high school and then going straight to uni, but then somehow one year turned into four before we decided to put our plan into effect.
feeling a very demanding gaze on me, i look towards the front and see kun staring at me. kun does nothing but raise his eyebrows as i look at him, there was something in his gaze that made me believe he knew something that i didn’t.
“why’s he staring at you like that?” shotaro whispers to me as he brings his chair as close to me as he can. seeing this, kun coughs awkwardly and looks away from me. i turn to shotaro and frown at him. “i don’t know, but it looks like he knows something i don’t” i mumble.
“well no shit, he’s a teacher. he’s bound to know something you don’t.” shotaro rolls his eyes dramatically. i smack his arm, earning an ‘ow’ mumbled from him. “you know that’s not what i meant.”
“i mean, he knows something about me or something that’s about to happen to me that i don’t” shotaro looks at me, i can see the gears turn in his head while he tries to think of something. “i could be wrong but maybe you’ve caught the eye of a friend of his.” he shrugs, my mouth hangs open before the loudest laugh escapes my mouth.
“want to share with the class what you find so funny, y/n?” kun asks, a frown on his face as he steps behind the teacher's desk and leans forward to place both his hands on the edge closest to him.
i try my hardest to stifle my laugh, but fail miserably as i look at kun. “no, i’m sorry.” i cough to stop myself from laughing anymore. kun raises his eyebrows and clears his throat. “very well then, pay attention.” he points towards mrs. rivas.
the rest of the class drones on as group after group performs their projects for mrs. rivas and kun. the bell for lunch finally rings, shotaro and i look at each other and nod. shotaro bolts out of his chair and all but sprints out of the classroom.
i giggle to myself as i watch. taking my time collecting my own and shotaro’s stuff, i notice i was one of the last students to exit the classroom. “y/n” kun calls for me as i pick up shotaro’s laptop and place it into my arms.
i turn to kun and wait for him as he walks up the class steps towards me. “yes?”
kun stops in front of me and looks me over with something hidden behind his eyes. “have you ever thought about getting a vocal coach?” his voice was low as he crossed his arms and leans his hip onto the desk next to us.
my mouth drops open before his eyes widen. “wait i didn’t mean it like that!” he raises his hands in defence. “i meant it as in for your performance anxiety, you seem to really struggle with it.” he says quietly.
“oh, uh. i’ve thought about it before, but never thought it would be a good idea.” my face turns hot as i turn away from kun’s intense gaze.
“why do you think it wouldn’t be a good idea?” he asks, sounding genuinely curious. “i don’t know, i guess the shame i’d feel explaining to someone that i struggle to sing in front of people who isn’t shotaro.” i say with a shrug.
kun nods, a hum leaves his throat. “well i happen to know someone who could help you if you would like that is,” he pauses and uncrosses his arms. “just let me know by the end of class on friday, then i can give you his details.” kun finishes.
“thank you kun, i’ll let you know.” i smile, kun nods with a soft smile as i walk away to go find shotaro.
i find shotaro sitting at our usual spot in the library, typing away on his phone angrily. “why’re you grumpy?” i ask and sit down next to him. shotaro lifts his head with a deep frown before it disappears when he sees me.
shotaro quickly pulls his bag from my hands and opens it to throw out all sorts of snacks, including sandwiches. “some loser is trying to doxx me on discord.” he says with a roll of his eyes.
shotaro places chocolate milk in front of me as well as one of those cream and strawberry sandwiches that his mum makes and that i am in love with. “i could kiss you on the lips right now.” i say and dig straight into the sandwich in front of me.
“do it then, you’re all bark no bite.” shotaro rolls his eyes comically and shakes his head. i squint my eyes at him as i contemplate on whether i should or not.
deciding there’s nothing to lose, i grip shotaro’s face in my hands and place a soft kiss on his lips. when i pull away, shotaro’s staring at me with the widest eyes i have ever seen on anyone. his eyes narrow before he slides his own cream and strawberry sandwich towards me.
i laugh at this and watch as shotaro puckers his lips and moves towards me. i push his face away from me and giggle as he huffs dramatically. “fine” he says and pouts at me.
“kun asked me if i wanted a vocal coach.” i say to shotaro as i take a bite of the cream and strawberry sandwich. shotaro stops mid-bite then his eyes dart towards me. “he said it could help me with my performance anxiety. i’m thinking of saying yes.”
“well if it could benefit you, i don’t see why you don’t say yes.” he nods at me.
“that’s what i’ve been thinking, he says it’ll be someone he knows.” shotaro chokes on his drink, he laughs wildly at this.
“i told you! i bet you that the friend he’s referring to is the one you caught the eye of!” shotaro laughs harder. i roll my eyes. “him and his friends would all be out of my age range.” it was shotaro’s turn to roll his eyes.
“it’s probably a younger friend, and that age range of yours doesn't stop you from drooling over hyde, which need i remind you is my uncle.” shotaro points a finger at me.
“okay but that’s different!” i say defensively. “he’s a celebrity!”.
shotaro looks at me knowingly. “you saw him on the weekend when you came to my family’s countryside house, he’s just about as normal as you and i” shotaro states matter of factly. “yeah, well-” shotaro cuts me off by shoving a strawberry into my mouth.
“it’s not different, you two know each other personally.” he shakes his head with a laugh. “anyway, i think you should say yes to kun. it’ll be good for you.” i nod as i think about it, having a vocal coach to help me overcome my performance anxiety would be really good.
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this chapter was VERY rushed so 90% of it won't really make sense, as the series goes on the chapters will get better i promise.
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#galacticseonghwa#wayv#nct#yang yang#liu yangyang#nct yangyang#yangyang fic#nctzen#yang yang smut#yangyang fluff#liu yangyang smut
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#Doodles#UT#Handplates#Gaster#Papyrus#Second go around! Maybe he can talk about it with the one who actually got the scarf!#Or not haha - better to just let some things lie#Though ♪ Of course Papyrus would recognize Gaster's efforts ♥ His emotional intelligence hhhh <3#He knows everything there was Gaster's initially and so reading between the lines of Gaster telling him he can have it#It's a gift! Properly! That deserves praise!! Good job you did something nice!#I also deeply love when Gaster is first pulled back out how one of his first little smiles is at Papyrus being silly#Gaster is also very prideful! It's cute to see his son being self-aggrandizing in that kid way! Seeing him enjoy it is so nice ;;#Also I know that Papyrus is still shorter than Gaster I just really like the idea of him being almost his dad's height ;;#He's so grown up now! He's grown into such a beautiful adult <3#It does make sense that he's still shorter considering the whole ''torn in half'' thing ahh#Maybe Gaster is leaning down just let me have this lol#I also ended up doing a lot of digital reconstruction on this one!#Especially panels 2 through 4 - I actually pulled out my tablet to draw in the bits that got cut off by the surrounding doodles#I wasn't as careful with my spacing with these oops :P But I think they turned out pretty style-matched :)#Cute lads happy <3
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#duskull#lest we forget that duskull only has one eye that just goes in the middle of their face and they move it around to get a view#so of course when ffp'd they're gonna look like a gyroid#gyroids scared me so much as a kid. not like the concept of them but remember in the original animal crossing when you didn't save#and resetti came out to yell at you or whatever. he would turn you into a gyroid#yeah. THAT scared me to DEATH. the way that it looked. every time it happened. but i was always kinda like… okay. if you can note down the#fact that i did not save. then that means you knew i played the game. and you knew i did it without saving. so why. did you not just#autosave for me. obvi animal crossing has autosave now and it's nice but it kinda puts resetti out of a job. except for like. rescues i gues#wow… resetti joined a rescue team… he's gonna save the world….#this is irrelevant. duskull! the guy who runs the bank in treasure town. trust *this* guy with your hard-earned money from that dungeon#in fairness to him he usually does take pretty good care of it. although him being an unevolved form of dusknoir made me not really trust#him very much when i first played pmdeos. aaaaanywaaaaayyy
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