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some-bunniii · 4 months

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Lucifer with an artist reader

・❥ You’re hosting an art class, and the nude model is someone you never expected

xx: it’s a long one y’all 😭 we’re still in the pre-dating era! Slowburn, anybody? Forget the crumbs, have the whole loaf of bread, my swans ☺️

warning: brief mentions of nudity & mild swearing

After Lucifer’s initial tour of the hotel, he started coming around much more often.

He was beginning to reconcile with his daughter, and that meant making up for all the years he had missed out due to his self-isolation.

When Lucifer came to the hotel for Charlie, he always made time for you.

At first, when you had still been busy working away at the paintings for the hotel, he had used the excuse that he was just coming over simply to “admire the art.”

Nevermind that he crossed the entire hotel just to look at some paintings, but you never pried him about it. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t waiting in anticipation for his visits.

Sometimes, he would lean against the door frame in silence, watching as your brush glided across the surface of the canvas. He dared not to disturb you while you worked. Too afraid he’d cause you to slip up and place your brush in the wrong spot, ruining your piece.

He never would admit it, but the soft, feather-like strokes you made always seemed to lull him into a state of tranquil bliss.

If he had the opportunity to sit there for hours and watch you paint, he’d probably drift off into a peaceful sleep.

It was ASMR for the King of Hell.

You weren’t always sure whether he was admiring the painting, or you. You were too concentrated on making a leaf of a tree, or the surface of the water just right to trace his gaze.

You’d think with Lucifer being the embodiment of pride and his rank as ruler of the realm, he’d have demanded your attention instantly.

Instead, it was you who usually spoke first. “Are you going to sit down?” You’d tease with a warm smile, greeting him with a bat of your eyelashes as you soaked your brush with fresh paint.

“Of course, I just wanted to see your progress, it’s looks beautiful as always.”

You had hummed a thanks as he strode over to the flat cushion in the middle of the room, and collapsed in it. He had now claimed it as his personal spot ever since he had first used it when you let him use his wings for reference.

Every time he made himself comfortable, he would exhale a large sigh of relief, like he just walked out of a noisy and over-stimulating circus show.

His tolerance for people in general was still pretty dicey, but here, in the quiet corner of the hotel, he could reset his mind.

And with you there? He didn’t feel so lonely. Even in your silence, your presence and the multitude of large paintings leaning against the walls was all he needed to keep his mind from drifting off into darker thoughts.

“Boy, do you work fast. I can’t imagine what Hell would like if you were the one running things.”

“Probably terrible,” You had laughed, “I may be able to create art under time constraints, but the pressure of an entire realm on my shoulders? We’ll let the super-powerful-fallen-angel deal with that.”

“There goes my vacation,” He had sighed dramatically.

Sometimes, he’d catch you humming to an ancient tune, and every time he’d ask you about it.

“What song is this?” He’d ask, genuine interest lacing his voice.

“Innsbruck, ich muss dich lassen”

“I’m not even going to pretend to know what that means”

“ ‘Innsbruck, I must leave thee’ ,” you’d laugh, “It’s a German song and is, you guessed it, from the Renaissance.”

“Oh, right. Germany. Yeah, they were our biggest influx of souls back in the early 1900s,” He replied, “Must’ve been fun people.”

You shook your head at that. Right, ‘Fun’, that was a rather.. surface-level take on what that country had gotten into during that period of time.

“You should tell me more about the Renaissance.” He’d ask with puppy-dog eyes, which always made you set down your brush and turn to him. A content smile spreading across your face.

Your knowledge of such a time always intrigued him, the Renaissance as a whole did. For so long, he had desperately clung onto the hope that some of humanity would go on to create great and beautiful things due to his actions. That his Fall wasn't all for nothing.

Slowly, that hope fizzled out, and Lucifer’s growing delusion that Earth mirrored the sinful realm of Hell in more ways than one plagued his mind.

And then you appeared, passionate about Man’s most beautiful creations. Art, music, long-ago writings of sappy declarations of love in the form of poetry, and times when humanity’s intellectual and innovative nature flourished.

“It was absolutely magnificent,” You’d start, drawing from the depths of your mind all the imagery you could remember from when you were alive, “Filled with all kinds of artistic expression, painters that filled the ceilings of churches with heavenly imagery-“

Lucifer had snorted at that. This era in time had such a romanticized idea of what Heaven and their Creators were like. He pitied their ignorance.

“-and beautiful music. They were known for bringing to life a worldview known as Humanism. It was meant to bring back ancient philosophy — like from the Greeks — to uplift people to participate in the betterment of humanity, and to perpetuate much more virtuous actions. There must be a whole city full of them up there, I can't imagine anyone from that period ending up down here with how protective they were of their moral code.”

He’d always listen attentively in silence as you educated him. Sometimes, he’d even pull out the classic yellow rubber duck toy he held so close to his heart, and begin to fiddle with it as you spoke.

When he worked on them in your room, he’d curate them especially for you.

“Look! This one can refill your palette with the bestest freshest paint!” He’d exclaim as he wiggled it in the air, “And it still quacks!”

Every time, you’d pull up a cushion across the table from him, and rest your chin on your hand as you watched in amusement as he demonstrated his work.

In this instance, he squeezed the sides of the duck and it let out a pathetic Sqeaaooo and a glob of paint slid out of its mouth and plopped right onto the table. It splattered, leaving a few droplets on his pretty white overcoat.

Lucifer was a messy fella, and times like this made you growl quietly and reach for a wet cloth from your cleaning bucket. Hastily trying to rid his clothing of the bright red paint. Your movements across his sleeve made his body tense, and his breath quicken.

For someone who easily flustered you with abrupt acts of affection like the first time you met, Lucifer had the uncanny ability to turn his face as red as his cheek spots when you displayed such care towards him.

“It's still a work in progress.” He’d bashfully assure you every time something like that wouldn’t go as planned.

You’d wish Lucifer displayed such creativity outside of the yellow bath toy, but you promised yourself to help him down that path.

You could only imagine how many ideas this man had stored in that head of his, and you had a feeling you’d get him to wake up eventually. The thought of being there for him — with him, made your cheeks hot.

When it was finally time for him to leave the hotel — sometimes hours later, you’d walk him to the door of your little atelier and he’d turn to you, with that charming smirk and half-lidded look.

“Aren’t you going to say goodbye to Charlie?” You had ask, as he adjusted his hat and coat to depart.

“I already did before I got here,” he replied nonchalantly, as if you two existed in completely different buildings. Nevermind that she was a flight of stairs and a few halls away.

There were no more bold kisses to the limbs from him after your first meeting, to your displeasure. Even thinking about it gave you feelings that tugged painfully at your heartstrings and made you beg internally for more.

You desperately wished for him to softly hold your hand once more, to feel his lips graze your knuckles, to drink in the warmth of his touch.

Instead, he clutched his staff tightly, and dipped his hat to you.

“Until next time, Darling,” his voice, like silk, had echoed as waves of gold surrounded him. In a blink of an eye, you were left alone once more. Your heart pounding just like the first time, and every time after that.

Today, your heart was pounding just as fast. Except there was no Lucifer in sight.

Three days ago, you got a call from a good friend of yours who ran an art studio on the other side of Pentagram City. She realized she had double booked her classes, and had begged you to take over one for them.

“I’ve never taught anyone before…” You had trailed off over the phone, apprehensive to the idea.

“Nonsense! You are so well spoken, and you’re fantastic at this kind of stuff,” She exclaimed, “It’s not that hard, all you have to do is sit there while they trace the model and step in a few times to give them some tips on techniques. They aren’t a beginner class, so they shouldn’t need much instruction. You’re also in charge of guiding the model with the poses, but I already have a sheet that has them all, so you just need to follow along.”

You stood there for a moment, thinking. This was something totally strange to you. What were art classes like in Hell, anyway?

“Oh, AND they are going to be nude. At least partially, we make them cover their um, nether regions. That shouldn’t be a problem for you, right? I mean, you get paid for it so…”

Your friend trailed off, and the line went quiet for a moment as you mind raced. You looked around the now -empty atelier, your paintings finished and hung up around the hotel. You had nothing that was stopping you from doing it, not your skills, your time, or even the fact that the model was going to be exposed. You were in Hell, seeing someone like that was an almost daily occurrence. Telling her no just because of your nerves was a douchy thing to do, and you were far above that.

“Fine.” You conceded.

“YAYY!!” She shrieked in happiness, and you had to yank the phone away from your ear before it could start to bleed.

The next few minutes were her telling you where, when, and what to do. You had listened intently, memorizing her words. You didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself in front of strangers that you were teaching.

After hanging up the phone, had you went downstairs and to the hotel’s lobby to inform Charlie of your new job.

“I’m really sorry if this interferes with me working here, but I just couldn’t leave her hanging.”

“Pffft, it’s fine,” Charlie had waved it off, “You accepting the position as my new interior design manager is more than enough, i’m just glad you’re getting out of your comfort zone like this!”

You sighed a breath of relief. Good, no issues. You were worried she would have said no, and the fact she knows about Lucifer visiting you? Well, you weren’t sure how she was taking that. You never dared to ask, nor did she make any kind of indication her feelings about that.

“What’s it like?” She had asked, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“It’s nothing too bad, I think I might actually like it. I just help them with their techniques on mastering figure drawing by using a model as a reference. My friend says they are still looking for one to pose, so hopefully they find one in the next few days.”

“Interestingggggg” Charlie responded, her eyes holding a mischievous glint to them. You could see the gears turning in her head, but what for, you had no clue. You didn’t ask either.

You had spent the next few days preparing, you even had visited the studio. It was very pretty, and the room you were in was small, but rather homey. You had more confidence with your ability to lead the class now after locating specific areas of importance.

Which lead you to present day. You were hurriedly scrambling around the room, grabbing anything of necessity.

Your eyes jumped to the clock, and a squeak of panic escaped you as the class’ starting time got closer and closer. Finally placing the last pencil in your bag, you raced down the stairs, beelining for the door.

“Where you going in such a rush, Hot Cakes?” Angel Dust called out to you from the bar, Husk next to him as he poured Angel another drink.

“To class, do you know where Charlie or Alastor is?” You questioned them.

A rush of wind tickled your back, and you whipped around to see the Radio Demon himself looming behind you.

“Hello, my friend!” Alastor’s toothy grin on full display.

“I heard you were looking for Charlie, unfortunately she left not too long ago. She said it was something of great importance, and that it could shape the future of the hotel. But do not worry, I am here to assist you!”

You placed your hands together into a praying motion, trying your best to appeal to the demon’s better nature. If he had one.

“Can you pretty, pretty please send me to the Regal Fortune Studio? I’m doing a class there and I need to get there on time.” You begged.

Alastor’s eyes squinted in thought. Before his smile widened more than ever.

“Alright, I suppose so.”

You didn’t get to utter a thank you before the demon snapped his fingers, and dark energy crackled around you. Cold suddenly gripped at your shoulders, and your vision blurred.

You squeezed your eyes shut, unsure of what would happen next.

‘Please don’t kill me, please don’t kill me’

Suddenly, light hit your eyelids and you slowly opened them to see the studio before you, just steps away from the front door.

You exhaled a sigh of relief, before yanking open the door.

The door to the classroom was slightly ajar, and you could hear faint voices inside. Indicating that everyone but you was ready to begin.

You crossed the lobby, ready to pull on the handle of the door, before a slight movement in the corner of your eye caused you to turn your head.

At the far end of the room, you could partially see long, blonde hair sticking out into view. Then, you heard the stranger speak to herself. Quiet grumblings of a feminine voice as they berated themself.

You raised an eyebrow.. could it be?

“Charlie?” You asked slowly.

The stranger squeaked, their hair pulled out of view. You heard a thump against the wall, as though they’ve pressed themselves against it in an attempt to hide.

You slowly tip toed the hallway, before whipping your body around the corner, surprising the mysterious figure.

“Charlie!” You shrieked in surprise at the sight of her, crouched against the wall. Her eyes widened in shock, and she let out a shriek of her own. Her eyes darted around, before she pulled herself up to meet your gaze.

“Oh my gosh heyyyyy, I didn’t expect to see you here!” She mocked innocence.

“Bullshit,” you retorted, “I told you where I was going like three days ago. Why are you really here?”

Sweat beaded on her forehead, and she bit her lip. As if she was deciding whether to tell you the truth, or another lie.

Suddenly, she let go of the breath she held, her shoulders dropping in defeat.

“Okay.. the truth is, when you told me you were hosting an art class I was so thrilled! For you, of course. But then, I thought about how much you and my dad were getting along! Then, I thought about how you guys seemed to have the shared interest of art. So I.. told him about the class?”

“And?” You questioned, irritation lacing your voice. You really did not have time for this.

“And I told him about how you were still looking for a model, and you know how he is. He doesn’t have a problem doing things like that in front of people, and he’s getting better at being around people in general..”

You gripped Charlie by her shoulders when she trailed off again, shaking her.

“Spit it out! What about your dad?!”

“HE AGREED TO BE THE MODEL FOR YOUR CLASS BUT I HAD NO IDEA THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO BE NUDE UNTIL WE SHOWED UP BUT HE JUST SAID GOODBYE AND WALKED INTO THE BACK ROOM!!”

You stopped dead, your breath caught in your throat. You turned your head slightly, eyeing the classroom door.

“Your dad… is in there… naked?” You finally managed to get the sentence out, your gaze returning to Charlie in a look of disbelief.

This was a joke, right? There was noooo way you were going to walk in there a minute and see Lucifer there. This was just a terrible (-bly good?) dream.

Charlie nodded in defeat, her head hung low.

“I don’t even have the mental strength to go in there. I couldn’t stop him, even if I wanted to. He was dead set on this.”

You rubbed a hand along your face, gathering your thoughts.

“Well, there’s no stopping it now,” You said, rolling your shoulders in preparation, “Guess I have a class to teach.”

“Have fun..?” Charlie smiled innocently at you. Her plan was working, after all.

You shot her a glare before crossing the lobby once more, and pulled open the door. You stepped inside, breath hitched, and gently shut the door behind you.

In front of you, four older women sat behind easels with a blank white canvas attached. If they noticed your arrival, they didn’t show it. Instead, they giggled in the direction of the slightly lifted stage. You couldn’t see who was on the stage, but the familiar voice with giddy amusement told you exactly who it was.

“You’re finally here!” Lucifer called, and you did nothing but stand there for a moment.

Straightening your back, you exhaled a deep breath, and walked forward. Right past the stage. You kept your eyes in front of you, ignoring the golden gaze that trailed your figure.

You positioned yourself between the platform and the women who had finally stopped giggling and whispering to each other, and cleared your throat.

“Hello, everyone. I’m your instructor for today, unfortunately Renee couldn’t be here today. We’ll be going over the usual though, figure drawing with the model present today.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, before opening them with renewed energy.

Slowly, you turned on your heels and pivoted in the direction of the platform. Your eyes widening at the sight.

Before you, on a long, red couch lay the King of Hell. Lucifer Morningstar, in all his glory. Shirtless, with no pants in sight. Thankfully, a thin, barely-hiding-anything sheet covered his waist section.

You met his gaze, a playful smirk etched on his lips. He wiggled his eyebrows at you, gauging for a reaction.

You made sure not to give him one. If he thought he was going a reaction from you in front of all these people, he was wrong.

“Let’s start by doing a quick sketching exercise, take about ten minutes to do your best and draw the model in front of you. Once the timer goes off, we’ll review and go over some techniques, before switching to a much longer pose.”

You clicked the timer, and the faint ticking of its gears cemented you into reality.

“Is that Lucifer?” One of the ladies whispered to her friend a chair over. Her friend shrugged, “I have no idea.. but boy, is he handddssoomee.”

You pressed your lips together, trying to ignore their gossip.

Sitting in the chair farthest from the group, you crossed your arms, your gaze resting on the floor. Was he looking at you right now?

You sat there for a moment, before realizing you couldn’t ignore him forever. He was the model after all. Soon you’d have to be helping him change poses anyway.

You looked up, drinking in the view. He was lazily leaning against the back of the velvet couch,

His hair, with no hat to cover it, stuck to his face messily with sweat. As he adjusted his head, a few strands of curls fell in front of his eyes. His intense stare slightly masked.

Was the room getting hot, or was it just you?

His eyes were locked on you, that stupid smirk still on his face. You sent daggers back to him.

He replied with a wave of his fingers.

You refused to let yours eyes travel any farther than his face, not ready for what kind of images your mind would give you regarding what was underneath the sheet.

“Did you know the Renaissance was pretty famous for constantly expanding its artistic art forms?” A voice smooth as butter filled the silence.

What the hell was he doing?!

“Believe it or not, the naked human was a very big inspiration for many of their paintings. No sheet in sight.”

Some of the women perked up in interest at Lucifer’s words. You couldn’t tell if they were actually interested in what he had to say, or just to hear his voice as it commanded the room’s attention.

“For an era so virtuous,” He teased the last part, reminding you of your discussion days earlier, “They so did love their scandalous marble status.”

He let that sink in, and you rolled your eyes dramatically at him. You couldn’t believe this was how Charlie planned on setting the two of you up.

A candle lit romantic dinner? Nah. A trip to the movies? Boring, apparently.

Were you against the idea of getting closer with the ‘Big Boss of Hell’? Of course not! He made you laugh and was actually interested in your ideas. This was just not how you expected it to go down.

“Keep talking, pretty boy!” One called from behind her easel.

Before he could speak again, the timer shrieked in your palm. You shot up from your seat, clasping your hands together loudly.

You turned your back to Lucifer as you began instructing the class, showing them a few techniques on how to straighten their lines, and how to hold their pencil just the right way that would give them a much thicker line for specific parts of the body.

“Alright, now, we’re going to have the model switch positions.”

Grabbing the paper that held all the different poses, you held it out to him, your finger tapping against the specific one in question. It showed the figure in a front facing view, one hand closed in a fist supported their chin, the other tucked neatly underneath. As if they were listening intently to some hot gossip.

“I’m afraid I can’t see what‘s on the paper. Perhaps, if you come a little closer and show me?

You groaned internally, he was enjoying this too much. You strided over to him. His gaze followed you, his grin only widening as you closed in on where he laid.

“You need to turn facing them,” You commanded the King himself. He pivoted, his body fully facing the group of gawking onlookers. He gave them a wink, and they hid behind their easels, their whispers fast and beathless.

“Now, you have to move your arm.. like this.” You spoke, reaching out one hand. You hesitated for a minute. You’ve never been so.. upfront with like this.

Reaching down, you gently circled your fingers around his wrist. Slowly, you allowed your hand to slip down, reaching his forearm.

His body was hot to the touch, and you felt like melting right then and there. Maybe it was time just to accept defeat, this man was just too good looking.

You felt the muscles of his arms shift, and you halted for a half a second.

Did he just tense?

Maybe you weren’t the only one who could be teased.

You guided his arm forward, and then up. Sliding your fingers, ever so gently, around his knuckles. You squeezed, and his hand enclosed into a fist. You guided it underneath his chin.

“Touchy today, aren’t we?” He spoke quietly to you, his voice dripping with velvet allure as you positioned him as the image on the paper showed.

“You be quiet.” You scolded him, trying your best to bring on your most serious face.

His quiet chuckle in response made you drop the face instantly. It was obvious you were pretty bad at this kind of thing, at least compared to Lucifer.

You grabbed his other arm, and gently tugged it underneath. Letting it lay neatly below him.

Taking a step back, you admired your work.

You were going to return to your seat, before a thought crossed your mind. You took a step forward, closing in on Lucifer again.

“And one more thing…” You started.

Using two fingers, you grazed the bottom of his chin, firmly pressing upward. Instinctually, his head followed the motion. He met your eyes, his gaze intensifying.

“Good boy.” You teased, your voice laced with a hint of sultry satisfaction.

You didn’t miss his pupils dilating into slits and his breath hitching slightly. You just turned on your heels, not giving him a second glance before returning to your seat.

You tilted your head at him slightly, looking at him through your eyelashes. Your lips curling into a provocative smirk as you gripped the timer.

Maybe now this would be an even match.

“Begin.”

Time flew by once more, and this time, Lucifer refused to meet your gaze. Instead, he was purely focused on the easels in front him.

“Tell me, my dear artist,” He began, addressing the demon woman before him. Her eyes widened when she realized he was speaking to her.

“If we were back in the Renaissance, would I make quite the muse?”

“Pardon?” The lady asked timidly, her voice coming out in a whisper.

“How about a statue? Think about that. Tall, Marble-skinned, and… lacking this rather uncomfortable cloth.”

The woman’s face turned bright red. Her mouth opened and closed, her tongue refusing to cooperate. Lucifer knew how to play this game well.

Then, he turned his head to you.

“What about you, stranger? Would you think i’d look good in such a form?”

You crossed your legs, leaning back in your chair.

“If the statue could stay quiet, while the class finished their work. Then, perhaps.”

The angel huffed, averting his gaze. He blew a few strands of hair out of his face, before continuing his blank stare at the wall.

The timer in your palm rang once more. You lifted yourself out of the chair. This was it, the last pose.

You strided back to Lucifer, his smoldering gaze on your figure as you approached.

For this pose, he needed to be off his stomach. You weren’t going to roll him like a log, or go anywhere near his torso. That was too brazen of an act for you to commit to, at least with all the eyes on you. Instead, you squeezed your eyes shut and gripped the white sheet. You tugged with all your might.

With an oomph he rolled along with it, he shoulder blades digging into the cushions as he landed exactly where you wanted.

Before the ladies could get even a glimpse, you hurriedly adjusted the sheet back onto him.

“Impressive, bending the devil himself to your will.” He commented as you continued to adjust his arms.

Ignoring him, you moved onto his legs, positioning them slightly.

“Careful~” He chided.

You said nothing to that either. Once he was in the correct pose, you released him. You glanced at his hair, now messily covering his face.

You reached forward and, splaying your fingers, pushed his hair back behind his head. You let your nails softly graze his scalp before you tugged them free.

“Sorry, can’t have your curls covering your face for the girls back there.”

“I bet they wished they were in your position,” Lucifer hummed “Few rarely are.”

You chuckled softly, “Please, the view looks better from back there.”

He let out an audible “Ha!” as the words left your lips and you turned away from him once more. You knew that must’ve stung, sending a blow to the prideful king’s ego.

Thirty minutes went by as you sat there, you spent more time examining your hands than meeting the gaze of the angel across the room.

This had turned into quite an eventful class, you couldn’t lie. You also didn’t expect such a shameless attitude from Lucifer, he was much more timid back in your painting room. Perhaps there was a side of him you still had yet to meet.

To be honest, sitting here, watching the clock tick by, you were pretty surprised this man had managed to stay near-perfectly still these past few hours.

Another thirty, and the timer rang its last chime. You had been positioned behind the drawing ladies, giving them critiques on their work.

You ignored the fact it was Lucifer you kept staring at on their canvas, instead simply regarding it as charcoal lines in need of straightening.

You wished them farewell at the doorway as they left. You hoped they had at least a pleasant time, since they’d have at least a good story to tell to their girlfriends over the phone.

Shutting the door with a soft thud, you sat there for a moment before your shoulders dropped in exhaustion. You honestly weren’t used to that kind of atmosphere, since your work consisted of you alone in a quiet room all day.

Taking a few steps backwards farther into the room, your gaze landing on the couch atop the platform. It was empty. Your eyes widened, did Lucifer just leave you here?

You rushed out of the classroom and strode into the lobby, searching for any signs of him.

“Wow, that little sneaky piece of-”

“I’m right here.” Came a familiar voice behind you.

You jumped, whipping around to find Lucifer dressed fully. Hat and all. Now this is what you were used to. Crossing your arms, you raised an eyebrow.

“What was that back there?” You motioned to the room behind you.

“My daughter invited me to look good in front of people and I did an outstanding job, as usual.”

“As the model? You couldn’t have just used your position as King to get a spot behind the easel instead?”

Lucifer grinned widely, leaning back against the wall. Could this have been his plan, and not Charlie’s? Now you weren’t so sure.

“Unfortunately, not many of us have a skill as perfected as yours with a brush.”

You accepted that praise. You had worked hard for it.

“And, not many people have as great of a photogenic face as me. So, we’re square.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you walked away. Lucifer kept pace as you both exited the studio, heading toward the curb.

“That reminds me,” Lucifer halted, reaching into his pocket to fish for something.

You stopped beside him, the mystery item in his coat pocket piquing your interest.

“I fixed it!” He held the the paint-vomiting rubber duck out to you, wiggling it in delight.

“You did?”

“That’s right. This bad boy can now pop out six different colors, you just have to pull its beak.”

“That actually really cool,” You laughed, taking the rubber toy from him. You turned it in your hands, maybe later you’d pretty it up with some fresh paint.

You looked up at him again, his golden eyes shimmering from the bright neon backdrop. You have much more to say to him, but your thoughts were jumbled from the day. There was one, though.

“You know, next time you should just ask.” You gripped the duck firmly in the palm of your hand, lowering your arm.

“Ask what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Luci. You’re telling me you hijacked my class because you had a change in career choice?”

His smile turned playful again, and he pivoted to face you, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Maybe, maybe not. That depends if i’ll be seeing you next week?” His eyes met yours with a questioning stare.

You gave him a warm-hearting smile, nodding your head.

“As always.”

His smile widened, and with a tap of his staff. Golden waves cascaded around you. It wasn’t cold, like Alastors. Instead, it was warm and relieving, like face planting into your pillows after an exhausting day.

As your vision began to obscure, you saw his face peak into the cascades of light, his hand reaching forward.

“I almost forgot.” His voice echoed, distorted by the magic as it circled them.

His hand enclosed around your own, and planted a kiss right onto your wrist. His lips lingered for a moment, as did his grip around your hand, as if your time together was too fleeting to let go.

You promised silently it wasn’t.

The light rushed over you suddenly, and you had to squeeze your eyes shut to keep from being blinded. Lucifer’s touch vanishing with your sight.

Feeling your feet planting on solid ground, your eyes widened to familiar surroundings of the hotel lobby. You were home, and Lucifer was no where in sight.

“Hey, Hot Cakes!” Angel Dust called, still seated in the same spot at the bar, “How’d it go?”

——————

🤍 alright, let me know what you think of this!! your comments are appreciated, esp if you have any ideas on what to do next!

💜 the kisses are getting higher! part 3?

#lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #did i do the sexy good?#my asexual ass is trying y’all #this man has been in one ep and we’re all snarling over him jesus

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bluetimeombre · 3 months

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⭒❃.✮:▹Call it what you want to, part 4!

[finally!! Here’s part 4, sorry it took so long to get up, I’ve been working on many other things that I want to share. Hope you like this one, the next part will be the final FINAL]

liked by... tchalamet, florencepugh, zendaya, tomblyth, tayrussell & others

yourusername: happy birthday tchalamet!! one of these days you'll bring back lil timmy tim. see you soon!!

1.1m likes 603k comments

user: 'see you soon?!' they're happening!

user: yourusername being the biggest timmy tim fan is the best thing ever

user: i love them

tchalamet: thank you daisy, my daisy

yourusername liked his comment

tchalamet: can't wait to see you

user: ur honour, they're in live

user: HE CALLS HER MY DAISY LIKE THEIR CHARACTERS IN WONKA IM DECEACED

user: hate to be tom rn

user: catch up, they're not together

user: they're not!?

user: happy birthday timmy

user: she's so sweet, urg love her

user: parents

user: i LOVED WONKA

user: isn't timmy in new york and she's been seen alone in london? does that mean they're going to each other

user: we are being fed

user: i swear he was just with kylie

user: they're so cute, you can tell timothee is so in love with her

⭒❃.✮:▹

timothee chalamet is texting ... you

⭒❃.✮:▹

tchalamet posted on his story…

Caption, 28!

liked by … tomblyth, joshandresrivera, tchalamet, zendaya & others

yourusername: nyc, treat me kindly xoxo

903k likes 655k comments

user: cute!!!!

user: dying rn

user: they’re together for the new year!!! r u kidding me!!!

user: looks like we know what timmy has planned for new years

user: PLS THEYRE so cute

user: no hate to my parents or I’ll kill you

user: mom, I’m going back to dads house

tomblyth: is that my shirt?

yourusername: u mean the shirt you LITERALLY gave me, stfu

user: not together my ass!!!!

user: tomblyth and yourusername all the way

user: she went to new york for his birthday and for new years, she’s in love with him

user: tchalamet and yourusername >>>

user: her and tom are so cute but as friends

user: her and timmy are literal goals

⭒❃.✮:▹

user: GUYS!!! LOOK AT THEM AHH, tchalamet and yourusername at his apartment in New York! They’re so IN LOVE

101k likes 45k comments

user: WHAT

user: what about Tom :(((((

user: she basically just lied in her vanity fair to make herself not look like a whore

user: slut

user: awwww I love them

user: she’s leading tom on

user: she was literally making out with tom like two months ago

user: how could she do this?

user: timmy needs to leave her

user: save timmy!

⭒❃.✮:▹

liked by…. yourusername, tchalamet, rachelzegler & hunterschafer

tomblyth: if you don’t have anything nice to say about one of my favourite FRIENDS then kindly shut the fuck up

1.3m likes comments restricted

⭒❃.✮:▹

taglist: @darlingisntit @hazzapotter @gotta-go-now @lucy-loaf @drewskeyyx @ennycutie @sparklingsounds @hoely-maria @callsignwidow @kodzuvk @dangelnleif @coconut-dreamz @destrolid @hermionelove @popejar @yesimwriting @slytherhoes @peachesandmon @zunin-msty (thank you all for enjoying it!!!!!

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

Text

Called to Duty 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, abandonment, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Summary: You struggle to move on from the biggest mistake of your life but find it hard to forget among the whispers of a small town.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You rub your lower back as you enter the bakery. You focus on the simple task; just a loaf of bread. You have a weak spot for the sourdough there. Just thinking about it, you could salivate.

You wait behind another customer. You think she works at the bank but you’ve never been very good with faces, even in a small town like Hammer Ford. Others don’t seem to have that issue as your name easily rolls off their tongues. The whispers are getting louder now that you can’t hide as easily.

The bank clerk sidles along the counter and glances over her shoulder as you shuffle forward. She sends you a judgmental look but you reserve any of the same. Everyone knows she’s sneaking around with the manager down at her branch.

You tug your shirt down as it threatens to ride further up your stomach. Everything’s too tight these days. Everything’s uncomfortable. Your fingers linger on the hem, touching the taught flesh beneath. Four months now.

“Hi,” you greet the woman behind the till, “can I get a loaf of the sourdough. I’ll take the day old for the discount if you got it.”

She smiles brightly and repeats your order, asking if there’s anything else. You say no. You budgeted for the bread, even a tea would put you too close to the line. She grabs you a loaf and she keys in the day-old discount.

You pay as she slips the wrapped loaf into a paper bag. Before you can turn away, she stops you, “have a cookie,” she points to the plate of shortbread beside the small specials sign. “They’re not moving.”

“I can’t,” you argue.

“You’re doing me a favour. I don’t like to throw them away,” she insists.

You smile sheepishly and take a cookie, hugging the bag above your stomach as you turn and nibble on the cookie. You cross to the door, juggling your armload as you open it, and leaving without a look back. You hear your name again before the door closes.

Who’s the father…

That’s the big question. You’re not married, not dating, so who could it be? The same question got you kicked out of your mother’s house. The pharmacy let you the dingy bachelor above as you spend your days working a till at the front.

You won’t say it, even to dispel the murmurs. You know it wouldn’t solve anything, only add fuel to the fire. ‘She should’ve known better. The golden prince of Hammer Ford is a known playboy. Why wouldn’t she be safe? Why wouldn’t she be responsible?’ They wouldn’t ask the same of him.

As you turn onto the street, your arm hits someone else and you drop the cookie. It cracks on the pavement and you look down, leaning forward to see the ruins. You deflate. Oh well, it was free, after all.

“Sorry,” a voice draws your attention from the spoiled shortbread. You look up at the man. You know him, you think. Again, you’re no good with faces.

He runs his hand over his shaved head then drags it around his beard, “I’ll get you another.”

“No, you don’t have to,” you wave him off, “I should go…”

“Miss, it’s the right thing to do,” he insists.

“Really, it’s okay,” you assure him, “I should’ve looked where I was going.”

“Me too,” he agrees.

You tilt your head and push a shoulder up, “well, have a good one.”

You turn to cross the road, looking both ways. As you step down from the curb, the man does the same. Why can’t you remember his name? You swear you ran into him before. Down at The Horn with… him.

He walks parallel to you as you cross the street. You stop and look at him, confused.

“Just seeing you across, miss.”

“Uh, thanks, that’s very nice but you don’t have to do that,” you chuckle nervously.

“I know. Just what I’m trained to do.”

You remember, he’s a soldier. Yeah, Thor mentioned that. Just thinking his name stings.

“Right, well, thanks, I appreciate that,” you put your hand on your stomach and haul the bag higher, turning toward the pharmacy just a shop down.

You hear him follow you again. It makes you nervous. Is he going to the pharmacy? It could be a coincidence, it’s a small town. Still, it’s very odd.

You go to the door just past the store entrance and take out your key. He comes right up and watches you, looming strangely at your shoulder. You hold onto your key and face him.

“You’re pregnant,” he says as if you don’t know.

“Uh, yeah,” you nearly laugh, “I am.”

“Shouldn’t be carrying all that,” he says.

“Just bread,” you answer.

“That father should be getting you bread,” he argues.

You’re put off by his demeanour. He speaks as if he’s giving orders to the world around him. You guess that’s just his nature.

“He won’t be doing that,” you shake your head. “I’m fine, really.”

“You don’t remember me,” he adds, “I remember you. You were dancing and drinking.” He looks again at your stomach. You put your hand over it defensively.

“I wasn’t like this then.”

“You weren’t,” he frowns then points to your finger, “no ring?”

This is awkward. Where everyone else in Hammer Ford is happy to whisper behind their hands, he’s interrogating you in the street. You shake your head and look down.

“Must not be a real man who did that,” he comments, “I’m Sy, just to remind you.”

“Sy,” you sniff, “right, I–”

He says your name first, “I remember.” He taps his temple, “I won’t forget.”

You swallow and the bag crinkles against your chest, “I’m… gonna go, uh, Sy, my feet hurt.”

“Be safe,” he commands.

“Thanks,” you utter awkwardly and stick your key in the slot. He stands staunchly as he is and as you pull the door open, he reaches to open it all the way and holds it, “got it.”

You keep the fragile smile on your lips and bow inside. He lets it close slowly and you pause to make sure he’s on the other side. You twist the lock into place and recoil. That was very weird.

#captain syverson #dark captain syverson #dark!captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #au #backwoods au #drabble #series #called to duty #sand castle

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sturnsslut · 1 month

Text

sleepover - chris sturniolo

a/n : not much but leave suggestions, i’ll write almost anything + lowercase intended !!

warnings - dom!chris x sub!reader , pet names, teasing, swearing, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, slight choking, sneaky

——————————————————————————

‘ i feel you inside , no better feeling ‘

me and nick sturniolo had been best friends for almost 4 years now , and i had the BIGGEST crush on his brother , chris. of course i would never tell him , but i had a feeling he already sorta knew . ever since i told nick about my crush on chris , he has been teasing me NON STOP about it for almost 2 years. and he's always feeding into my delusions , even tho im trying to get over him.

anyway nick is constantly telling me how chris is always asking when im coming over next, how he's always talking about me , how he's starring at me when im not looking, things like that.

i don't believe any of it, but i wish. anyways i was bored, and it was Saturday so i thought i could call nick to have him come over so we could hangout , because if i saw chris, this whole " getting over him " thing would go right back to stage one. i got out my phone and pulled up nicks contact to invite him to come over , because ill be damned if all a bitch does is watch netflix alone on a saturday night.

iMessage

twin 💗 - nick

me - (you obv) 😭

NICKKK

i miss you sm

can you come over pls

i wanna hangout

twin 💗

TWIN I MISS YOUUU

I would but matt isn't here

so there isn't anyone to drive me

you can come over here thoooo

fuck. i tossed my phone to the side and let out a loud sigh , why can't anything work out in my favor ?? i picked up my phone and texted back nick.

well maybe you should get a license 😒

IM JUST KIDDINGGGG

twin 💗

Shut up bitch

you don't have one either

now come onnn

you can see ur man 😱

i hate you

im omw

twin 💗

😘

i texted my older brother and asked him if he could take me to nicks, which i didn't want to because he was at work and i didnt wanna wait but, oh well. he said he'd take me and so about an hour later he came home and told me he was waiting outside.

i threw on whatever, not really caring considering the fact i thought i was going to be in nicks room the entire time i was there. i put on blue plaid pajama pants and a black crop top with an oversized grey jacket, and some random slippers.

i packed my bag and ran outside, thanking him for the ride. a few minutes later i was at the sturniolos house.

i knocked on the door expecting nick, but of fucking course , it was chris.

" um hey." i said awkwardly, looking down at him.

"hey pretty. nicks in his room" he replied and opened the door further for me to walk in. i brushed past him and accidentally got a little too close. like i touched his dick type of too close.

i heard him groan silently as i walked past, making my way to nicks room.

fast forward a few hours , me and nick were watching a movie when he passed out.

i was gonna go and hangout with matt, but then i remembered he still wasn't back yet from wherever the fuck he was at, so with nothing else to do, i just decided to go to sleep right alongside nick.

i remember randomly waking up around 2AM for no reason but feeling hungry, so i made my way to the kitchen and got a freezer meal or wtv tf

i heat it up in the microwave and while i'm waiting , i decide to just get comfortable and lean on the counter while i scroll on my phone.

i'm about to shut off my phone when i hear something "nick?" i whisper shouted because i was slightly startled by the noise

there was no answer , i just shrug my shoulders and continue scrolling on my phone, when i suddenly feel two warm hands on my waist.

i jumped but not enough to move, i turn around to chris with his hands resting on my waist , looking at me with an indescribable look.

"what..are you doing?" i said flustered, turning my head to look at him , but again not enough to move our bodies any further apart.

"nothing..just can't sleep." he replied

god , his sleepy voice was literally going to make me bust.

" okay.." i say confused and go back to scrolling on my phone. i feel him rest his head on shoulder

" what are you watching "

" just t.." my voice trailed off as i realized i could feel that he had a big ass boner, and he was wearing only sweatpants

i struggled to get my words out because of the situation i was in, so i just ignored the question.

i felt him smirk and her closer to me, him getting more hard the closer he gets, with his hands still on my waist.

"what..you like the way this feels mama?" he says slipping his hands down into the front of my pants, but not fully.

"i.." i could barley speak due to the uncontrollable amount of flips my stomach was doing

"use your words ma." he says getting closer to me, his boner now fully on my ass

i'm gonna bust was literally my thought process. i was nervous, but of course im gonna do what he tells to.

"yea.." i say now slightly arching my back

he turns me to face him, so now im leaning against the counter and facing chris.

he takes one of his hands and guides it up to my face, "do you really."

"yeah" i let out a breathy moan and he smirks leaning closer to me, holy shit. no way this is happening.

he kisses me and i kiss him, he moves his hand down to my neck as we make out, the kiss turns into a sloppy make out, and he picks me up and i wrap my legs around him, he sets me on the counter so im perfectly aligned with his waist, as we're still making out

he starts leaving kisses on my neck and i grab his hair as he does so, leaving a trail of hickeys.

" fuck " i slightly whisper , this felt so good.

he stopped for a moment before placing one hand on my waist and the other in my pants

" you ready ?" i nodded desperately, not being able to use my words because of how badly i needed him.

he stuck two fingers inside of me and i grabbed onto the back of his shirt in pleasure

" damn ma your so wet ..all for me? how long have you been waiting for this mama "

i nodded, physically not being able to speak because of how good his fingers felt inside me.

" use your words. how long. " he demanded , grabbing my chin making me look him in the eyes

i paused, not wanting to me too loud. " damn ma, you like how i touch you that much you can't speak ?"

" t..two years " i struggled to push out those simple words. this man knew what he was doing with his hands.

" come on baby, if you were horny you could've told me. i would've helped you with ease. " he said, stopping for a second

" i didn't think you were into me. " i admitted

" really? i thought it was obvious. everytime you came over to see nick i would get hard just looking at you..i've been waiting for this moment a while to ma. "

he moved his fingers in and out of me again without warning, and i moaned a little too loud.

"watch your volume pretty girl..i'd hate for me to have to stop cause you couldn't control yourself "

i nodded agreeably, and trust me when i listened. i'd waited for this moment almost 2 years , i wasn't gonna let anything ruin it.

his fingers continued to move in and out of me at a rapid pace for another 2 minutes , and i felt myself start to get close

"chris...i'm close" that's when he took his fingers out of me and i caught my breath for a moment.

he took his dick out of his pants and it sprung out instantly. when i looked down, my jaw dropped.

he was easily a good 9 inches, and that was just a guess. i'm so screwed.

he stroked himself and laughed when he saw the look of surprise on my face. " what ? all your other little boyfriends had a small cock ?" he teased

i pulled my pants down further so chris had easier access. he got closer, until our noses were basically touching. "you ready ma" i nodded eagerly , because of how close we were, i felt his cock literally in between my thighs. " yes, yes i am just please fuck me " he smirked and put one of his hands on my waist , the other holding his dick. "you sure?" he asked me again, me giving the same answer.

and with that, he shoved in only 7 inches , just to see if i could take him or not. i gasped but covered my mouth because i remember what he said about keeping quiet.

" good girl " he smirked at me again, then shoving the entire 9 inches in me. i put my hands under his shirt, leaving scratches all down his back

" fuck mama..your so tight" he said pausing in between sentences

i could barley speak, but i wanted more. i managed to get two words out , "faster..please" i begged

" more already? alright ma..."

he thrusted in and out of me even faster than before, about a minute goes by before i felt that knot build up in my stomach.

" chris.." i paused before my next sentence, remembering that i had to be quiet "im close."

" not yet pretty girl.. please- mmm fuck you feel so good. "

i giggled slightly, before telling him how we should switch positions if he didn't want me to finish so soon.

" you got it mama. " and with that, he took me off of the counter and set me down, bending me over the counter instead.

he grabs my hips and lines me up, " you ready? you know i just gotta ask" he asks

i could feel his tip touching me, he was definitely teasing. well if he wants to tease..i can do it to.

"hm not yet..i need to catch my breath" i teased and move my waist slightly, feeling his tip against me

" how bout now?" he asks eagerly

"i don't know .." i answer, he's like a needy child , how cute

" mama please ..i need you so bad. "

" im ready " and with that he slams his entire 9 inch dick inside of me , going faster than before

" you think it's funny for you to tease me ? is it because you know you take me so well ?"

his sleepy voice..fuck.

" fuck..sorry" i say , i couldn't even think cause he was fucking me so good.

he grabbed my neck from behind and thrusted faster , that's when i knew i was close.

" chris , i cant ..im gonna-" im cut off by my release , letting it all go , and man i came hard.

" im almost there ma...in or out"

i mean, i was on the pill. " in , cum inside me please."

" mm..you got it pretty " he releases , and i feel his warm cum inside me , best feeling ever btw.

now we're both just leaning against the counter , heavy breathing, sweaty, looking at each other " you took me so good mama."

this man was really tryna make me nut for a 2nd time huh..i grabbed the food id forgotten about out of the microwave and made my way back to nicks room.

" goodnight chris. " i say with a smirk " goodnight ma." he says smirking back at me

—————————————————————-

a/n: umm !! don’t know if i like this but i have something coming soon for the matt girlies 🤗

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolos #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #smut #christopher sturniolo #x reader #sneaky #chris x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #smut writing #Spotify

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derlost · 12 days

Text

★ bakery bliss ༉‧₊˚

ミ ABOUT~ °•*⁀➷ in which you, a darling little baker in hell, come across a most unique client. could it blossom into something more? stick around to find out!

✧･ﾟWARNINGS ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ none really, only tooth-rotting fluff. written with a gn / male reader in mind

ミ AUTHOR’S NOTE ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥hello lovely readers! i’ve been working on this for a long time, and as such, i hope you guys enjoy it! side note for those who’ve been around for a little longer- all requests will be completed shortly, don’t worry! in any case, i hope you all enjoy :)

♥︎ you never planned on going to hell. i mean, nobody really planned on it, but it sure was unexpected, especially for you- someone who did practically no wrong during their life. you were a morally good person- a kind friend, an honest employee, and a helpful samaritan on the streets. no, you weren’t meant to be here at all.

despite it all however, you adapted to the demonic realm quite quickly. you opened a lovely little bakery on the east side of the pentagram, and business was booming. sure, the average sinner might’ve scoffed at your business, but you didn’t mind- not when you were focused on the weirder of your clients…

meetings folks from cannibal town was a given- you only lived a few blocks away, and it seemed that they much enjoyed old-timey bakeries and blueberry muffins to wash down a most questionable meal. you had no issue with these people at all- they were always polite, they kept you in business, and they kept corpses off your patio. this clientele didn’t concern you- they were earnest individuals, and frankly, you enjoyed their visits. it was instead the visits of the ‘adult film’ actors from down the way that really confused you.

similar to how you lived only a few blocks from cannibal town, you also lived a few blocks from hell’s biggest porn studio- owned by the famous overlord valentino himself. their jobs didn’t bother you- more so the tired, poor status of the workers- and when they started coming in just before closing to get a little snack, you began staying up later. one night specifically, you met quite the character…

the bell tied to the handle of your door rang a polite little jingle, and you jolted, immediately standing straight up. you had nearly dozed off- and as you trained your eyes to the door, you recognized the man immediately.

it was none other than the one and only angeldust- arguably the most famous pornstar in all of hell. his face was plastered over countless billboards and advertisements, but you were currently more preoccupied with the fact that he was standing in your shop at the asscrack of dawn. with a friendly wave to your new customer, you began to speak. “welcome to the loafing around bakery, i’m m/n! if you need any recommendations or help picking something out, i’ve got you covered.” the spider demon gave the bubblegum in his mouth a final pop before tossing it into the trash, taking his sunglasses off.

“heya, toots. neat little establishment you’ve got here, eh? how’d it get started?” “oh,” you replied with a playful smile, “i loved baking when i was alive, but never got the chance to open a shop. i decided i’d take a chance and roll the dice down here.” “yeah? how’s that working out for you?” you giggled, leaning over the counter, nearly pulling back from the cold- damn this shop and its icy countertops. “i’d say it’s pretty good! a lot of drop ins from cannibal town residents, and um…your crowd.” to this, the white-haired man let out a loud laugh, snorting at your words. “my crowd, eh?? i’ll hand it to you doll, you’re pretty funny. aaaaanyway, my coworkers have been praising this place like it’s the second coming of christ, so i thought i’d stop by. what do you recommend, hmm?” the spider demon pulled his hair through his fingers, giving you a teasing coy smile. he was different from the others…a lot different. you could tell.

after realizing you were staring, you feigned a grin and sat up straight, walking over to behind the display case. “my personal favorites are honeylemon morning and blueberry tea dreams, but normally when people come in during this time of night, i’d recommend them coffee kisses or banana snuggles.” the actor seemed amused at the names of your muffins and cracked a grin, his single golden tooth shining from the glow of your shop’s lights. “coffee kisses or banana snuggles, eh? but what if i wanted to be bold? like, do you do cupcakes?” you paused to giggle, sweeping a stray strand of hair behind your ear. oh, he would be the death of you.

“sometimes. i think we have ‘all the razz’ in stock, but that’s really the only bold cupcake flavor i can think of now.” to this, he quirked a brow. “all the razz?” with a quick nod, you answered. “yes! it’s a uh…a raspberry cake with raspberry filling and frosting. quite delightful, if i may say so myself. though, i wouldn’t recommend it at this hour. you should really get something lighter so you can sleep better.” the spider demon chuckled lightly at your comment, straightening his jacket. “is that so, sweet cheeks?” you couldn’t help the blush creeping onto your face and disguised it with a nervous laugh. “oh, um, well, i just think…y’know, with it being so late in the night, you should probably eat something easier on the stomach and just go get some rest…” you awkwardly averted your gaze to the trashcan in the corner of the room, praying he wouldn’t notice- which he inevitably did- but you ignored it further. the demon’s expression softened, and he stepped closer to the counter.

“aww, well aren’t you a delight? lookin’ out for me, hm?” the spider demon paused to chuckle, the look in his eyes full of genuine curiosity. why were you being so sweet? don’t you know you’re in hell? don’t you know how most people treat him? still, he supposed he couldn’t deny the fact that your kindness was much appreciated, and continued to butter you up. “what a cutie. in that case, i’ll take one of the cupcakes, and one of your favorite sleepy-time muffins. that sound good, pipsqueak?” with a dopey grin you nodded, grabbing a box- medium sized, specially to fit both- and carefully placed in both a raspberry cupcake and a ‘chamomile bliss’ muffin. your hands were nimble and precise as you boxed them up, despite it being far past your bedtime. you moved to the register and began to ring him up, sliding the lovely little pink and white box towards him.

“that’ll be three dollars and fifty cents.” the actor scrunched his nose up, putting a hand on his hip. while he had been nothing but nice to you, you could certainly understand the rumors of him being intimidating- he had a…loud personality to say the least, and you could tell he was quite confident just from his mannerisms. “hon, are you sure i don’t owe you more? feels like a crime to pay you so little, if’m bein’ honest.” with a sincere glance, you began to explain yourself.

“the muffin is on the house.” you spoke gently, blinking at him with a look that could only be described as homey. “on the house?” he questioned, clearly shocked. “oh,nonononono doll, i couldn’t do that. i-” “no, really!! consider it my gift for getting to meet you. just wanna make sure people in your business get enough to eat and that you all sleep. if you insist on paying me, just promise you’ll get some rest. that’s all i ask.” the actor hesitated- he hadn’t seen genuine kindness like yours in a long time- and slowly, allowed himself to break into a cheesy grin, swiping his card.

“you’re too good for this place, toots. don’t let anyone take advantage of that fact, a’ight?” you chuckled in response, waving a hand as you printed out his receipt and passed it to him, wholly blind to the fact that he was casually shoving multiple ten dollar bills into your tip jar. “I’ll manage, but i appreciate your concern. between your coworkers and the residents of cannibal town, i’d say i’m pretty well protected here, ahaha.” the spider demon tenderly took the box into his hands, holding it with care as to make sure nothing got shaken or messed up. taking a step back, he chuckled to you. “i get why everyone likes this place now, it’s a real treat, and i don’t just mean the desserts. in any case, thanks so much for the muffin an’ all of that. you have no idea how much it means to me.”

the white-haired man put his sunglasses back on and slung his purse over his shoulder, beginning to walk to the door, only turning back to wave. “i’ll be back soon sugar, so don’t run out of those lovely little muffins of yours, kay?” his sweet disposition definitely confirmed to you that you had done the right thing- that he was someone worth helping. with a soft wave, you nodded in return. “will do.” “take care of yourself, okay? goodnight, m/n. thanks again for the lovely midnight snack.”

you couldn’t help but beam as the bell on the door jingled upon his departure, and you yawned, leaning onto your elbows atop the counter. yeah, you thought. he was nice. maybe i’ll see him again. and as for him? well, his thoughts weren’t too far off from yours.

yeah, he thought. you were a real sweetheart. maybe he’d see you again sometime…

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

ミ AUTHOR’S NOTE 2˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥hello again! i hope you all enjoyed this fic, and if so, please consider checking out my other works or sending in a request! i adore writing for people, so rest assured i would be happy to write anything you come up with. thank you all again, have a lovely day!

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allfryam · 9 months

Text

freshman 50 (freshman 15 part 2)

Jake was delusional. He had gained over 15 pounds in the few months he had been at college and he didn’t even know it. He still saw himself as the perfect image of a man. His smooth abs we’re completely gone and he had a bit of a belly covered in a small layer of peach fuzz. Even Ben had noticed jakes weight gain. And he liked it. Ben had a crush on Jake since the moment they became roommates. The perfect brown hair, the ocean blue eyes, and Jake only became hotter as his stomach grew.

Ben realized that Jake was completely oblivious to the fact that he was getting fat. Ben wanted to keep it that way. Whenever Jake would say something about feeling big or eating too much, Ben would shut that idea down by telling Jake how great he looked. He even convinced Jake that the washing machine on campus would shrink his clothes. “Ohhh. That explains why my pants won’t button” Jake would say. Ben would often take jake out for pizza or burgers. Jake would end up eating an entire pizza all by himself because Ben would claim he wasn’t hungry and jake hated wasting food.

by Christmas time, jake had a proper dad bod. His expanding stomach was beginning to hang over his belt and push tight against his biggest shirts. His belly wasn’t the only thing growing either. His ass had gotten significantly larger than before. It would even bounce when he walked. Ben loved it. His thighs had also become thicker. Even his perfect jawline was beginning to fade. When all of his classes stopped for winter break, jake wasn’t getting nearly as much exercise as usual. He would play video games in his underwear and have fast food delivered to his dorm.

jake never told anyone he was gay. He was way too embarrassed to let anyone know. He was even more embarrassed to tell anyone he had a crush on Ben. Ben was so nice to him and he had the perfect body. The dad bod kind of grew on him. One night, jake mustered up the courage to ask Ben out. Ben said yes of course. They would go on dates all the time. Ben would take him to dinner; and jake would devour everything in his sight.

one night, jake decided to step on the scale to make sure he still had his perfect body. 200 pounds. At first, jake was shocked. But he realized the scale must be broken. There was no way he had almost gained 50 pounds in the span of a single semester. He decided to ask ben. “ do I look fat?” “What? No way! You’ve got the perfect body dude”. “But the scale said I was 200 pounds”. “Yikes” ben thought to himself. He knew Jake was getting fat but not THAT fat. “The scale is probably just broken” ben said. “Yeah. You’re right”

holiday treats had a big impact on jakes body. He would go the the store and see fresh treats at the bakery and he couldn’t resist. He would come home with 10 different types of cookies, eggnog, sweet breads, and candies. All of it would be gone by the end of the week. One day he was really hungry and he finished a batch each of gingerbread cookies, chocolate chip cookies, sugar cookies, snickerdoodles, peanut butter cookies, brownies, a gallon and a half of eggnog, a loaf of sweet bread, a slice of cake, and a bag full of peppermint m&ms. Not to mention the McDonald’s he had for lunch. Ben didn’t think it was possible to eat that much and survive but here was Jake. Doing it with ease.

when new years came, Jake only had one resolution. Get bigger clothes. None of his clothes fit anymore. Even his baggy sweatpants were skin tight. Bens New Year’s resolution was to make Jake hit 250 pounds without him noticing. This would prove to be a lot easier than Ben thought because little did he know, in December alone, Jake had gained another 35 pounds. Jake was huge. His average dad bod was now a round ball of a stomach. Ben measured it in his sleep one time. 50 inches. Jake had let the peach fuzz on his stomach grow to a nice hairy gut. His ass was also getting to be huge. It would stretch out his pants like crazy and bounced like a wild balloon. His perfect jawline was now replaced by a proper double chin. Jake didn’t even have to look down for it to show. It was always there. Growing. Jakes perfect pecs we’re now large moobs that sat nicely on his large gut. Even Jakes hands were starting to get chubby. They were turning into little greedy sausages. Jakes entire body would move when he walked. He would get out of breath just walking to class. But Ben wasn’t done fattening him up. He had big plans.

#fat #fat belly #fatty #gaining fat #chubby #fat gut #fatty piggy #gaining #gaining weight #getting bigger

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usedtobecooler · 1 year

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if it's not with you | tom grant x fem!reader

Pairing | Tom Grant x Fem!Reader

Warnings | sexual content 18+ minors dni, unprotected piv sex, vaginal fingering, general banter, flirting, all around fluffiness.

Word Count | 5k

A/N | eeeee i'm so excited to share this fic with you all!! honestly i've fallen in love with tom all over again writing this, i hope you all enjoy this flirty fluffy cuteness!!

This caravan park was easily the worst place you’d ever been on holiday to. You couldn’t even lie to yourself — the entertainment area was outdated, the food was far from good, the staff were mostly rude and unhelpful, and the caravan you’d rented for the week was the biggest piece of shit.

Your idea of a nice, relaxing beachside break from the city was basically down the pan the moment you arrived, though you had to admit the one saving grace was in fact the gorgeous beach, barely thirty steps away from your rental, all golden sand and crashing waves. It was peaceful, quiet — the school summer holidays were over so it only left the caravan owners and the odd few stragglers without kids behind.

Summer was barely clinging on, the nights were beginning to close in fast and the air was feeling that bit crisper once the sun set, like it had done every Summer since you could remember. There was still the odd humid, hot day, and this was one of them.

Muggy beyond belief, despite the cool sea breeze rolling in from the East. You were sweating, skin feeling sticky as you sunbathed in peace, laid out in a one piece on your towel. Regardless of the factor thirty, you already knew you were going to burn — you always did, no matter what. The harsh rays from the sun were unforgiving to your sensitive skin, leaving you flushed and freckled.

You feel the figure looming over you pretty quickly. The slight darkness on your left hand side as said person blocked the sun. You let out a deep sigh, using your hand as a makeshift sun visor as you open your eyes carefully, squinting up into the sun.

You spy the caravan park logo on his polo shirt immediately — site worker, clearly. He’s all curly hair, pale skinned and a goofy grin on his face as he clutches onto the magazine you’d taken with you to read, obviously blown off in a gust of wind when you’d been blissfully unaware, “Think this was trying to do a runner on you,” His voice is unexpectedly deep, though still chirpy, as he extends his arm out with the magazine rolled up in his hand.

“Thanks, mate,” You bark out a little embarrassed laugh, propping yourself up on an elbow and taking the magazine from him. Your fingers brush, and you can’t help the flush that creeps up to your cheeks at the barely-there touch, “It’s shit anyway — one of them magazines people get paid fifty quid to share their fake stories to, y’know.”

The man snorts, shoves his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts, “I know the ones, my mums obsessed with them. Surely nobody believes the ghost stories?” He’s making conversation, not in any rush to get off, and it’s strange. He’s maybe the second worker you’d encountered who was genuinely an alright person.

“Oh I know, in this one they’re claiming the ghost made toast in the middle of the night. Didn’t realise they could open a loaf of bread, who’d have thought it?” You humor him, and he properly laughs at that, kicking his toes in the sand as he looks down at you.

He’s awfully pretty, you notice, as you look up at him properly now the glare of the sun has been blocked a little. Big brown eyes and a freckled nose, tinged pink from too much sun and not enough sunscreen, no doubt. Nice full lips and a cute chin, chains dangling on his neck. Very typical English boy, but that was always your type.

Your mouth runs dry, now that you’re suddenly aware of how attractive this man is and you’ve just called him mate. Ground swallow you now.

“Anyway, I’ve got to get going,” He looks sullen at that, nose scrunching up a little, “Duty calls — these old fuddy-duddies who arrive this time of year always find something to moan about.”

“Well, you enjoy that…” You blush, giggling like a dickhead, suddenly aware of the fact you’re lusting over a man who’s name you don’t even know, “Sorry, I never got your name. No nametag?”

“Tom,” Tom digs in his pocket, a small triumphant noise escaping him when he pulls the old nametag out between two fingers proudly, showing you it, “I usually don’t wear it. Can’t be fucked when these arseholes complain about the staff and name us to management.”

“Well, I’ll make sure to name you to the staff when I check out and let them know you were a very helpful young man, Tom,” Your voice drips sarcasm and humour, and you know you’ve got him hook, line and sinker when he bellows a true laugh, throwing his head back and exposing the vast expanse of his neck, veins protruding. Your thighs clench.

You’re both shook out of the little bubble when somebody starts shouting Tom’s name from behind you both, startling you. He rolls his eyes, tapping the watch on his wrist, “Gotta go, darling. You need anything just ask for me personally when you phone, yeah?”

You nod, dumbstruck as he smiles wide at you, pearly white teeth on display. He takes off in a jog, and for the first time you truly understand the term ‘hate to see you go, but love to watch you leave.’

You bump into him again two days later, in the laundry room as you’re banging on the washing machine that currently had four days worth of clothes and underwear locked in it. It’d swallowed your token, locked the doors then refused to start, and you were raging — three quid down the fucking drain, just like that.

He knocks up behind you unexpectedly, his hip catching on the soft flesh of your ass as he leans over to pop a token into it. You suck in a breath and hold it, watching with awestruck eyes as the tendons in his wrist flex when he turns the dial. The machine whirs to life, water beginning to fill the drum in just mere seconds.

“What’d I tell you about just shouting for me if you needed anything?” Tom’s smug, lips so close to your ear they’re almost brushing the shell and you have to literally shove down the gasp that almost makes its way up your throat. He’s so close to you that you can feel the heat radiating off of his body, and a shiver ripples up your spine.

“I didn’t expect to need maintenance help for washing my underwear,” You bristle, trying to act calm as he brushes past you and opts for leaning against the machine, hands once again buried deep into his pockets — he’s wearing grey joggers this time, clearly to match the miserable and dreary weather outside. You avert your gaze from the obvious bulge in his trousers, willing yourself to just get a fucking grip.

It doesn’t help when you lock eyes with him, and he’s all gooey brown orbs and long eyelashes. It’s embarrassing how much you fancy him, and now you feel like a right slob — down here in your leggings, hoodie and crocs of all things. Hair up in a messy bun and no makeup on, on account of the severe sunburn on your nose and cheeks.

“C’mon, we’ll go back to the token machine and I’ll get you your money back,” Tom nods towards the door, a small smirk tugging at his lips. You want to tell him you don’t need the money back, but a little part of you wonders — and hopes — that he’s offering to do this so that you have an excuse to wander off with him.

“Sure, lead the way my saviour,” You joke, extending an arm out towards the open door. He scoffs, rolling his eyes with a look that could only be described as fond on his features as he saunters past you. You feel your cheeks heat up, and it’s not from the sunburn this time.

“What’s brought you to Cornwall, then?” He asks conversationally — you’re bumping arms you’re that close, and the corridor isn’t even that narrow, he’s just naturally gravitating towards you. You plod along slowly and he matches your pace, your heart thudding in your chest as your hopes were confirmed; he was being nosey, interested in getting to know you.

“Not much, I like the beach but I live in London so I don’t get to see it much,” You admit, shoving your hands into your hoodie pocket, “I work from home, too. So I thought I’d maybe get some work done whilst I was here. The wifi is shit, by the way.”

Tom winces, shooting you an apologetic look, though it’s clearly a mockery, “Yeah, this place doesn’t have much going for it, darling. Though it’ll give you an excuse to actually enjoy your break instead of worrying about work, right?”

You’re walking so slowly you may as well be at a standstill, and you know it’s because the token machine is barely ten feet away, “Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” You admit, because it’s true — you’d hardly even thought about your job since you got here, enjoying your time soaking in the sun and the peace away from your roommate, “What about you? You from around here?”

“Born and raised,” Tom shrugs. You glance to the side, watching as his adams apple bobs up and down when he swallows, “I live on the site now, though, have done since I was sixteen. I’m here all year with Kai, you’ve probably seen him around, angry looking dickhead with a buzzcut. A girl called Jade used to live here too but eh, she’s gone now.”

You hum, acknowledging what he’s saying. You want to pry, the way his voice changed when he spoke about this ‘Jade’ character leaves a bitter taste in your mouth — an ex, maybe. But you were basically a stranger to Tom, so why would he explain that to you?

The both of you stop right at the token machine, and Tom fumbles for his set of keys, flipping them until he finds one with a red tag on it. You watch his hands the entire time, thirsting silently — god, his hands were so nice. For a maintenance guy, they were clean, nails manicured, the skin soft. You could tell he took care of himself, and that made him all the more attractive to you.

He slips the three pound coins into your hoodie pocket, knocking you out of your daze. His hand bumps against your waist when he pulls it out of said pocket, leaving you feeling flustered. There’s no way he’s just being nice, he’s flirting, albeit subtly.

“Thank you,” Your voice is breathy, catching in the back of your throat as your eyes search for his again, though it doesn’t take long before his eyes are locking on yours once more, “Don’t know what I’d do without you. Or that three quid, actually, that’ll get me another shitty magazine from the shop and a bottle of Coke.”

Tom laughs, showing off his ridiculously perfect teeth once again, “You’re right, it will. Hopefully the ghost story in this one’s a bit better —”

There’s a sudden harsh knock on the window behind your head that has you leaping out of your skin. He glances up to where the source of the banging came from, and he’s huffing, rolling his eyes, “Gotta go, darling. Another dickhead to deal with. Remember what I said, need anything just shout for me, yeah? Enjoy your magazine.”

He lands a soothing hand on your shoulder just barely before he’s taking off, and your skin burns even through the thick material of your hoodie.

There’s one day left of your holiday. One miserable day. You hadn’t seen Tom at all since your encounter in the laundry area, and you had to admit you were feeling deflated over it. You hadn’t been avoiding him, in fact quite the opposite, but your paths had just never crossed again.

The weather was unbearably hot once more, worse than the first day you’d met Tom, not even a breeze coming in off the sea, and you were desperate for a cold shower to rinse off the sweat from your now sunkissed skin.

The caravan door slams shut behind you as you step foot inside, basking in the little bit of cool air in the living area that’d been bathed in shade the entire day. You strip off your two-piece without a second thought — your caravan doesn’t look onto any others, and you don’t see anybody around, so there was nobody to scar when you stripped naked.

At the beginning of your holiday you didn’t believe you’d ever become accustomed to the tight living quarters, especially the bathroom, but now that you’d been at the park for a week you almost couldn’t imagine going back home to your shitty little flat in Central London. You actually enjoyed the peace and quiet, and you were saddened about leaving.

You couldn’t deny that Tom was part of that, too. Though you’d hardly gotten a chance to know him you were drawn in, and the thought of heading home the next day and never seeing him again was weighing heavy on your shoulders.

Stepping into the tight shower, you twist the dial to turn on the water, only to be engulfed in a roaring hot heat that has you yelping and gasping. The sharp sting of the scalding hot water hitting your sunburnt chest brings tears to your eyes, your hands flapping to turn the dial back until the stream stops.

You jump out of the shower, grabbing for your fluffy towel that you’d set in the open window that morning, pulling it around your bare body and tucking it in until it’s sat nicely. The ends of your hair drip wet, the water cooling fast, an almost pleasant feeling in comparison to what you just felt.

There’s not a second thought before you’re dialing 0 on the phone in the living area and asking for a maintenance person to come look at the shower, reeling off that the water was scalding hot and had burned you. The person on the other end sounds bored, uninterested and far from shocked when you tell her what happened. You hang up and, in your anger, stick up your middle finger at the phone.

You didn’t even think to ask for Tom. You perch your ass on the arm of the U-shaped sofa, nervously chewing on your bottom lip and shaking your leg as you wait, wondering who it’d be that showed up to your call. You really, really hoped it’d be him.

Not even five minutes go by before you’re hearing a rapping of knuckles on the glass pane of the door, and you answer it quickly, all street smarts going out the window as you pull the door open just clad in your towel. Tom stands on the narrow step, clutching onto a metal tool box, and you breathe out a sigh of relief that it’s him.

“Fucking hell, that burn looks sore,” Tom looks with bug eyes at your chest, taking in the look of your skin tinged a deep red, much darker than the rest of your sunburnt body. You flush, moving out of the way to let him in, “If you put in a claim for that this place would be shut down.”

He laughs about it, but visibly looks nervous. You can’t help but wonder if, as much as he complained about the job, he genuinely liked it. Or maybe it was all he knew, which was also probably true, considering he had told you he’d been here living since he was just a teenager. A pang in your chest asserts itself at that realisation.

“I wouldn’t worry about that, it’s my own stupid fault for stepping into the shower before turning it on like a silly bitch,” You shake it off, a wobbly little laugh escaping you, “Nothing a bit of lotion won’t fix, Tom.”

“No, it’s fucking ridiculous that this even happened,” Tom grunts, stepping past you and wandering the short distance into the bathroom. You follow him like a lost puppy, clutching at the top of your towel with one hand, standing in the doorway as you watch him flip his toolbox open, grabbing for something and banging the shower door open.

“Dunno why they still rent out this caravan every summer there’s so much shit wrong with it, told the manager it was fit for the scrap yard two years ago,” Tom’s conversational, unscrewing the shower tap and fiddling with it as if you’re not standing there basically naked and still slightly damp from your failed attempt at hosing off.

You’re trying to look anywhere but right in his direction. It’s hard, though. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his arm bulging and straining under the tight material of his polo shirt as he uses his wrench to tighten a bolt, “S’okay, I got it pretty cheap. I’m away home tomorrow, didn’t want the next poor sod to get burnt like I did.”

Tom shoots a glance at you, brows marrying for a moment until he’s turning back to the job at hand, “I didn’t realise you were away so soon, fuck sake. If I’d known I would’ve come and seen you earlier. You’re alright, y’know?”

“Thank you?” It comes out as a question, and you can’t help but feel somewhat offended by his choice of words, “I suppose you’re alright yourself. Probably the only decent member of staff I’ve spoken to this entire week.”

“Yeah, the nice face and banter are just a bonus, eh?” Tom flashes you his teeth again and it has you rolling your eyes, though a fond smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, “Not like those posh London boys, they’re stuffy and boring.”

“You’re right about that,” You agree, watching as he throws the wrench back into the toolbox blindly, the tool landing correctly in its place. It’s now or never, you think, as he screws the tap back on. This is it, after this last chance meeting you’re not gonna see him again. “Who’d have thought something as simple as catching a blown away magazine would have a girl weak at the knees?”

You cringe at yourself, though Tom’s head shoots around. He looks at you with a confusion etched on his features, and you have to physically stop yourself from rolling your eyes. Surely you were being obvious enough, right?

You watch him dumbly step out of the shower, even going as far as to shut the screen door behind him, “What do you mean?” He asks, quirking a brow. Clearly you weren’t being obvious, then.

“Is it not totally obvious that I’m into you?” You scoff, wanting to lean forward and rattle that devourable looking neck. He’s clearly so clueless, it would actually be kind of endearing if you didn’t find it so infuriating.

Tom balks at you, taking a step closer to you, which has him almost right up in your face, with how enclosed the space of the bathroom is, “Really? I’m really shit at reading signals, sorry, love.”

Love. You melt at the pet name, going all gooey. You take your chance, fingers tugging at your towel until it’s loosening on your body. He watches you with curious eyes that soon turn lust filled, when you let the towel drop to the floor and pool around your feet.

You blush under his intense gaze, taking in the swell of your tits, the pebble of your nipples, the curve of your hips, the mound of your cunt. He takes another step, so you’re basically toe to toe, and he exhales loudly.

“Not done this for a while,” Tom admits, as his large hands engulf your waist, pulling you closer to him until your naked body is flush against him, the soft material of his worn-in work polo a pleasant feeling against your skin, “Can I kiss you?”

You nod, far too fast, too eager, but he clearly doesn’t seem to mind, leaning in until his plump lips are capturing yours. You melt into it, arms wrapping around his neck to tug him in closer, fingers burying in the hair at the nape of his neck.

Tom deepens the kiss quickly, tongue running over your bottom lip and you open up willingly, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth. His own tongue glides along yours deliciously, has your pussy clenching and your legs shaking. He moves you blindly backwards, like he knows the entire layout of this caravan — which he probably does, has probably been here many a time.

The backs of your legs hit the bed and you let yourself fall backward, opening your legs for Tom to nudge between them, one hand still on your waist tightly, other slipping down your leg, fingertips digging into the meat of your thigh. You shiver, unable to contain it, the feeling of the hands you’d thought about so much the last week finally on you was almost enough to drive you crazy.

Tom’s hand skates higher and higher up your thigh, until he’s cupping the heat of your cunt. He’s the one to break the kiss, pulling away from you to look you in the eyes properly, like he’s looking for confirmation that you’re still good and you’re okay to keep going, “You okay if I touch you?”

You melt. You nod, and he dives in, kissing the side of your neck with spit-slick lips, leaving you gasping and writhing below him. He bumps his hips down into you, and you feel the outline of his hard cock brushing against your inner thigh.

Suddenly, your carnal desire for him overcomes your every being, your hands falling from the back of his neck to fist into his shirt, bunching up big handfuls of the material, “C’mon, you too?” You beg, voice whiny, completely distracted by how Tom bites and kisses at your neck, “Need to see you too.”

He sits back on his haunches, smirking down at you, hands leaving your body and in turn leaving you cold — though it’s not for long, as you watch him pull his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side. He dives back down into you quickly, bumping those godforsaken hips down against your pussy this time, leaving you gasping.

That stupid, shit eating grin never leaves his face until he’s burying his face back into your neck, peppering your skin with kisses, hand nudging between your legs again, until the pads of two of his fingers finally dip in between your slick folds, gathering your juices on them. He grunts against you, rutting his hips down again, “Fuck, you’re so wet.” He mumbles, caught off guard by it.

“Mmph, all for you,” You gasp, breath catching in your throat when he finds the swollen, sensitive bud of your clit and starts rubbing in small, tight circles, until your hips are pushing up into the air, “Oh God —!”

You lose yourself in the feeling of Tom lathering you in kisses, the way his plump lips ghost along the stinging, burnt skin of your chest and soothe it, his fingers working on your clit until your cunt is gushing wetter than before. He’s so sensual, passionate, taking the most attentive care to your body, and it’s driving you wild.

“You feel so good on my fingers,” Tom groans in between kisses, looking at you with those pretty, chocolate brown eyes, now mostly blackened with lust, “Can’t wait to feel you on my cock, babe.”

You squeal, a moan punching out of you when his fingers leave your clit just barely to dip into the entrance of your pussy and glide back up, taking some of your milky wetness with them. You clench, quivering at his words, a deep heat blooming in the pit of your belly, alarmingly fast, “I’m so close,” You admit, losing yourself in the pleasure of Tom’s fingers catching on your clit, winding you up tight, tight, tight.

Tom kisses the swell of your breast, lips dragging down until they latch onto your nipple, licking and sucking until you’re crying out. He can’t take his eyes off of you, watching every contortion of your face as he makes you fall apart. Your fingers grip into his curls, tugging lightly until he’s groaning, vibrations echoing up your chest.

His fingers work at that same torturing pace, sliding in circles until you’re arching off the bed slightly, coil in your tummy snapping, your entire body tensing and going lax just as fast as your orgasm washes over you, a gush of slick slipping from your hole as you shake through it.

Tom works you through it until you’re jerking away, fingers unwinding from his hair and pushing at his shoulders instead. He presses a light kiss to your nipple, pulling himself up and slipping his fingers from your cunt, “Was that okay?” He asks, though he’s smiling, proud of himself, clearly.

You nod, catching sight of the prominent bulge in his grey joggers, sudden desperation to get to his cock overtaking you — you lean up, tugging at the waistband of the offending material until it’s bunched around his thighs, uncut cock springing out proudly, you gasp, “No underwear? You always wander around like this, you slag?”

Tom laughs, shaking his head, “No, I wasn’t on shift but took the call because I knew this was your caravan,” He admits, and you giggle, a little swell of pride in your chest. That little admission was enough for you, he did like you as much as you liked him.

He dives back into you, capturing your lips with his own, and you take that opportunity to get a feel for his cock, deft fingers blindly wrapping around the length and giving him an experimental tug, pulling the foreskin back. He gasps into your mouth as you work him up and down, your thumb swiping over the tip, and he’s punching his hips into your hand.

“Keep doing that an’ I’m gonna cum before I get to fuck you,” He mumbles against your mouth, nibbling at your bottom lip just a little. You take that as your cue to stop, hand dropping from his cock and instead wrapping around his bicep.

He makes a show of it, like an arsehole, grabbing a hold of his cock and sliding the tip through the mess of your cunt, catching on your clit and gliding it back down, until you’re gasping and silently begging for it, digging your nails into the meat of his tanned arms.

“C’mon, Tom. Please?” You whisper, looking up at him with pleading eyes, and he takes the bait — he slips his cock into you in one fluid motion, until his balls are flush against your ass. You couldn’t have been prepared for the sheer thickness of him stretching you from the inside out, a gasp escaping you when the head of his cock brushes along your frontal wall.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Tom moans, burying his head into the other side of your neck this time, kissing and biting at your flesh until it’s raised. He pulls out, slamming back into you to the hilt, and you clench around him, unable to help it, the curved head of his cock brushing against the spongey part of your cunt perfectly, “God, babe, don’t do that, I’ll cum so quick.”

You moan, clenching around him again until he’s groaning, fucking in and out of you properly, your cunt sucking him in, gushing around his length. You’re overwhelmed by the feeling of him all over you, his lips and teeth on your neck, his hair tickling your face, his toned torso crushing down into yours, his cock sliding in and out of the tight heat of your pussy.

“You feel so good around me, fuck,” Tom’s mumbling against you, words almost getting lost in your skin, but you’re fucking melting for it, the praises having you keening up into him.

You feel your orgasm building quickly, unaware of how loud you’re moaning until Tom’s picking up the pace of his thrusts, the slap of his hips against your ass echoing in the room, the wet schlick of your pussy mixing with the other sinful noises.

“M’gonna cum,” You cry, tears pricking at your eyes as your tummy blooms with heat once again, orgasm building a lot quicker this time than the last time, and Tom pulls himself away from the crevice of your neck, looking at you with his lust blown eyes, swollen red lips open in a constant moan, “Fuck, Tom, s’good, so good,”

You’re babbling and Tom groans, fucking you so rough you’re sliding up the bed — your high hits you so hard you see stars, eyes squeezing shut as your cunt flutters and gushes around the girth of Tom’s cock, fingernails biting into his arms so hard that you know you’re going to leave behind broken skin.

“Oh shit, oh fuck,” Tom’s voice goes high pitched, eyes rolling into his skull as your pussy grips him like a vice, and he’s coming too, hips stuttering as he paints your walls in his release, cock pulsing in the tight heat of your cunt.

You mewl, spent body giving into everything. You feel like you’re floating, unable to comprehend what just happened. Tom’s looking down at you with this big dopey grin and you smile back, leaning up to kiss him languidly as his spent cock goes soft.

Tom slips out of you with a hiss, collapsing down next to you, chest still heaving on breath, “You sure you’ve gotta go home tomorrow, darling?” He asks, voice quiet as he tugs you into him, those big arms engulfing you in a tight cuddle. Your whole body melts into his, your mind blank of anything but him. Maybe you didn’t have to go home just yet.

“I suppose I could see about hanging around for another week… or two,” You admit, and Tom cackles in triumph, squeezing you tighter until you’re giggling into his chest, heart swelling.

#tom grant smut #tom grant x reader #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn x reader #my fanfic #mine #my writing #x reader #not this being the longest fic i've ever published stoppppp

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fatuismooches · 2 months

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I know i've suggested this before but... I just love the idea of reader accidently getting turned into a cat and suddenly becoming a menace💀 like they start pushing stuff off Dottore's desk, MULTIPLE vials falling and shattering. Reader doing zoomies around the lab as the segments desperately try to catch them...

Reader kneading on the segments legs.... making so much dough 😭 and Reader getting so many pets!!!!!!!!!! YAY!!!

Foxttore and Cat Reader playing and running around... (Reader getting suffocated by the pufflings because they all decided to lay ontop of Reader...)

Then reader gets turned back into a human and is very confused when prime dottore looks at them very unamused (the lab is a mess and they will be forced to clean it all)

- 🐓

READCAT BEING THE MOST MISCHIEVOUS EVEN IN CAT FORM... you could only be restrained with cuddles and head scratches... climbing up the legs of the segments begging for head pats ough... loafing on their lap and refusing to get off so they're stuck there...

Reader shattering the vials and random agents start falling everywhere... 💀 it would be CHAOS. All because of a silly little cat who's now perched at the top of the biggest shelf in the room sleeping peacefully while the segments are left to deal with the current mess of the lab.

You would accidentally tear Foxttore's little suit... you'd have to stitch it back when you return to a human. Kneading a puffling would be so fun omg... poor things don't know what's going on but they like the sensation.

Being a kitty is fun and all but you're happy to return to being a human again for all the kissies! :3 Unfortunately you receive none until you clean and reorganize the lab as it once was. And also handwrite all the documents that were ruined. The only one who helps you is Zandy. Dottore notes to himself not to let any strange concoctions near you ever again...

#smooches talks #🐓 anon #dottore love notes <3 #yk i had the perfect image for this #its the panel of webttore sitting and there's a tiny kitten on his foot #unfortunately i lost it #also!! i was playing stardew and i got a chicken statue.. i immediately thought of you #i placed it near my coop in your joyous honor

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 10 months

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Sweet

Summary: You were in charge of the bakery of Jackson, baking all day long with a little help from Ellie. What you didn't know is that Joel Miller had a sweet tooth. And let's just say even the funghi apocalypse did not change saying: the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 3.3k

Rating: T

Warnings: fluff, mentions of food, a little making out, that once scene with the sugar from gone girl but it's Joel

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You enjoyed these quiet moments when the small community of Jackson was still asleep. The sun wasn’t even up as you walked the familiar way from your small house on the edges of town towards the town centre.

You still couldn’t believe how surreal living here was, after years of living scared on the road, even though you had been here for almost a year now.

You felt safe here, and that was the biggest luxury you could have since the outbreak.

Maria had found you hiding in an abandoned lodge hours from here, nearly delirious from hunger and hydration.

You don’t remember how you got here exactly, you just remember waking up in what you learned later was the town's jail with Maria watching you like a hawk.

Apparently you had fought them pretty wildly when they found you and you only had Tommy Miller to thank for them not killing you. What he saw in you was a question you still asked yourself.

But Maria noticed that she did not have to worry about you pretty quickly. And when her husband learned that you used to help in your fathers bakery before the Outbreak… Well let’s just say the empty building next to the bar had been renovated within three weeks to make room for a bakery and you had been baking everything from bread to sweets ever since then.

Your days didn’t have to start so early. But you cherished the quiet, the alone time you got whenever you walked through town before everyone woke up.

Ever since you started baking for the town all kinds of ingredients and appliances showed up whenever patrol was out on a run. You had your usual baked goods and pastries you made for the daily with ingredients you always had on stock. If someone wanted something special you did that too. You’d never forget last year when Tommy had brought you fresh strawberries to make four cakes with it.

By now you had a little garden at your home with all fresh fruits. Even a peach and an apple tree was slowly growing in your yard. Okay, it wasn’t even up to your hip but it was getting there and in the meantime you could count on Tommy Miller’s sweet tooth to bring you whatever he found when he was scouting outside of the walls.

Your little bakery was quiet, the radio playing some Queen CD you had found in the library as you kneaded some dough to make some new loafs of bread. Humming along you jumped when the door flew open with a yelled “Good Morning.”

You took a deep breath, shaking your head, a smile sneaking to your face before Ellie even walked towards the back to find you.

“Jesus kid, one day you are going to give me a heart attack,” you scolded her. She stuck her tongue out towards you as she grabbed her apron.

“You’re late,” you said.

“I know. But I have a good reason!” she grinned and you only noticed the bag she was carrying now.

You tilted your head to the side, narrowing your eyes with a smile playing around your lips.

“Joel got back in back late yesterday and I tried cooking for him.”

“So you were late because you were putting the fire out from burning down the kitchen?” you teased.

She gasped, her eyes widening in mock offence.

“Rude. But I’ll let it slide. I didn’t burn the food. Well, not much but Joel brought me some new comics to read and I kinda forgot the time.”

“That’s the good reason?” you asked. You began to cut the dough and form some loafs.

She shook her head, beginning to unload the bag.

The first thing you saw seemed to be cream cheese.

“Had to pick that up from the farm,” she explained. “That’s why I was late.”

“Okay…” you nodded.

She pulled another three big bags with what looked like a brownish powder.

“Joel found this and said I had to talk you into making… Cinnamon… rolls?”

You gasped. Rubbing your hands off your apron you walked over to her, opening the bag and the familiar scent of cinnamon hitting your nose.

“How did he even… Wait, Joel told you to talk me into making cinnamon rolls?” you asked surprised.

“Yup.”

“Joel Miller?” you checked. She nodded again.

“Huh okay,” you nodded, surprised.

Of course you knew Joel Miller. Not just because he was the new main attraction (pun intended) of the town, no he could almost compete Tommy on the first place of Jackson’s biggest sweet tooth. Not that you would know about it if it wasn’t for Ellie telling you that basically everything she took home after helping you was almost inhaled immediately by Joel.

You hadn’t met him in person very often yet. Ellie and Joel had been in Jackson for almost two months now and he was busy helping out wherever he could. He had a skillset that was very valuable in times like these.

One day Tommy had brought Ellie with him, introducing you to her and she… she never really left. On weekends she helped you out in the morning like today, while during the week she hung out with you after school. If she wasn’t here, she was with Joel.

Which made you not really knowing much about the man a little strange. He only had been to the bakery once, probably to make sure you weren’t a bad influence on his kid (though you would say it was very much Ellie who was the bad influence here, not that you would say that out loud).

You had met him at Maria’s birthday party only two weeks ago where he kept in the back and nursed a bottle of beer until leaving quietly without saying goodbye to anyone.

You knew Maria was not his biggest fan, though the question of why has not been answered yet. Not that you had a right to know in any way.

To you he seemed like a man hardened by the world you all were living in. He’d protect his family until his last breath. Ellie only ever had great things to say about him (apart from moaning about him making her do daily chores around the house like every teenager) and Tommy seemed even happier since Joel was in Jackson.

Of course you saw the way people looked at him, you weren’t blind.

He was tall and had broad shoulders, the warmest brown eyes you had ever seen, leaving not only you to daydream about those arms and hands and what he could do with them.

“So, Cinnamon rolls?” Ellie asked and you blinked at her, your nose still inhaling the scent.

“Yes. God, it must be at least 20 years since I’ve had some.”

You grabbed two of the packages, putting them away.

“We gotta finish those loafs of bread first. Then we can start on the rolls.”

“Can we do a whole tin of these cinnamon rolls for Joel?” Ellie asked, walking back to join you at the counter after she had washed her hands.

“Sure. I don’t see why not,” you shrugged, rolling the dough to form more loafs of bread.

“Cause it’s his birthday and Tommy said he hates his birthday, cause ya know it’s outbreak day and…. Well stuff happened there…. And I… I want him to be a little happy?” she said and you nodded.

Outbreak day was bad for everyone. It was the day you lost your whole family. You had just turned 26 and had been visiting home for a week after moving away for a job. You were at your father’s bakery, finishing icing for a wedding cake for the next day when your father attacked you.

You had killed him in tears to save your own life and nothing had ever been the same ever since.

“I already said it’s okay, Ellie. Come on. Let’s bake the best cinnamon rolls of the apocalypse,” you joked and she giggled.

You ended up not only making four loads of cinnamon rolls that were gone the moment word got out you had made them, but also a little vanilla sponge cake with cinnamon frosting, helping Ellie to carry the cake and one load of cinnamon rolls home.

She insisted it was okay for you to come home with her, she couldn’t carry it on her own anyway.

Opening the door, she yelled for Joel immediately and you chuckled as you followed her inside and into the kitchen.

It only took a moment before you heard footsteps and Joel Miller walked into the kitchen. And what a sight to behold he was. Wearing dark sweatpants and a thin white shirt, his hair unkempt. You had the suspicion that he had just woken up from a nap. His eyes found yours first, confusion washing over his face before he looked behind you to find Ellie.

“Look what we made you!” Ellie said proudly, revealing the little cake with one single pink birthday candle on top of it which she had lit.

A genuine smile sneaked on his face as he slowly walked over to the table where Ellie had set the cake down.

“For me?” he asked and Ellie nodded eagerly.

“You gotta blow out the candle if you still can, old man,” she winked at him and he huffed a laugh, his head turning towards you for a second.

“Make a wish,” you said with a smile and he nodded before he blew the candle out.

“Taste the frosting! I didn’t know anything could taste so fucking good,” Ellie pushed a spoon into his hand and he shook his head with a smile as he sat down.

“I should go,” you said and Ellie looked at you with wide eyes, as if she only just remembered you were still there.

“Noooo come on. You gotta stay. Enjoy our hard work and eat a piece of cake,” she grabbed another spoon and walked over to you, grabbing you hand and pulling you with her towards the table.

“Yeah. Stay. Can’t let you leave without having a taste of your hard work,” Joel said and gave you a small smile.

You took a deep breath, his eyes not leaving yours as you finally nodded and sat down next to him.

“Plates?” he asked.

“And have me clean the dishes again? Fuck no dude. Dig in,” Ellie said and you chuckled at the expression of pure defeat on Joel’s face before he sighed and dug his spoon into the cake.

Joel became a frequent fixture in your life after that day.

He picked Ellie up after her shift at the bakery and made suggestions about how to improve the bakery. He suggested having some place to sit outside to enjoy a piece of cake in the sun.

“You know, like a coffee shop before the outbreak,” he says with a far away expression on his face, as if he was thinking about something in particular.

A week later there was a bench outside of the bakery with a small table, built by him and for you. You thanked him with a peach pie and a kiss to his cheek that had him hide a blush.

Him and Tommy even brought an espresso machine into your bakery that they intended to fix. How they would provide coffee beans for their espresso was beyond you, but you knew if the Miller brothers wanted something, they would find a way to get it.

Ellie started to spend even more time with you.

She would visit you at home and help with your little garden. When you walked her home after Joel would have dinner ready more than once, inviting you to join them. And who were you to say no?

There were little touches when you passed by. His hands brushing over your arms, your back, your waist. Whenever you were looking for him, his eyes would already be on you, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

It was interesting seeing how different he was in his home in comparison to outside in town.

He’d walk you home after dinner, so he knew you’d make it back safe even though both of you knew you were perfectly safe anytime in Jackson.

Joel seemed to look for reasons to spend time with you, and you were not complaining. At all.

It had been many many years since you were interested in someone and someone in you and you were enjoying having the attention of Joel Miller.

He’d hug you good night, telling you to be safe and that he’s looking forward to seeing you the next day.

Spending time with him became your new favourite thing, and you were pretty sure Joel liked it too.

Yet you felt like something was holding him back.

And you’d learn about it weeks later, after he had invited you for dinner, for your first official date.

You learned about his daughter who was killed on outbreak day. About how he lost a part of himself that only started to come back after he had allowed himself to care for Ellie. You learned about Tess and how he regretted never being brave enough to tell her how he felt about her before she died.

“I’m scared that once I allow myself to care about someone, they will be taken from me,” he whispered as you sat in his arms, your back against his chest as you shared a glass of wine in front of the fireplace.

“I think we’re all scared Joel,” you said, your hands on top of his.

“How couldn’t we be? Fucking funghi took over and ended the world as we knew it before. But that’s the thing. We don’t know how long we live. And I probably sound like a shitty motivational speaker but it’d be a shame not to live every day like it could be the last. To not tell the people you care about how you feel about them,” you said and felt him pull you even closer, his nose nuzzling into your hair as he sighed.

You had fallen asleep not long after, waking up early the next morning when Joel had to leave for patrol.

His eyes had lingered on your lips as he told you to stay however long you wanted, before he kissed your forehead and helped you up on the couch where you fell asleep again.

You were late in the bakery that day, thankful for Sean who had joined the community a week before who was already finished with all the baked goods for the day when you finally made your way to the bakery at noon.

You thanked him, sending him home early before you got behind the counter and started decorating some cookies he had made for a kid's birthday the next day.

The sun was setting when the door opened and Joel walked in. He smiled at you and you offered him a cookie which he took, moaning when he tasted it.

“Got something for ya,” he said and you noticed the bag he was holding. Interested, you walked over to him as he held it up.

“What is it?” you asked with big eyes.

“Found a plum tree on the new route today,” he said and you grinned.

“You got me plums?” you grinned and he nodded.

God you wanted to kiss him so badly.

You were startled when you heard a crack, Joel’s arm wrapping around your middle protectively, shoving you behind him before either of you knew what was happening, your head whipping to the side just in time to see the cupboard behind you on the wall crash down on the counter, your eyes widening when one of the bags of powdery sugar you had made the week before opened and seemed to cloud the whole room in a white cloud of sugar.

You turned your head to look up at Joel, eyes widened with shock, a giggle fighting its way out of you. Joel was still looking at the damage behind you before his eyes were on you when you laughed.

“I might have to file a complaint against the carpenter that hung those,” you hummed and Joel shook his head with a chuckle.

“You better.”

“It was your brother,” you said.

He rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Of course it was. Gonna fix that up myself for ya, darling,” he said. You smiled, only now noticing that his arm was still wrapped around you. You turned, stepping around him so that you were facing him. Carefully your hand reached out, your fingers rubbing over his temple, where you only noticed now some sugar was sticking to his skin. He hummed, his eyes closing for a moment as you swiped it away, bringing it to your lips. Licking them clean.

“You have sugar all over you too,” he whispered and you sucked your bottom lip in, hiding your smile as his warm brown eyes took in every little inch of your face. He tilted his head a little, one of his hands coming up, two of his fingers rubbing over your cheek before he rubbed them over your lips.

Sugar, he was rubbing sugar over your lips.

Your lips parted as he tilted your chin up.

“Always wondered if you taste as sweet as I imagined,” he hummed before he closed the distance between the two of you and pressed his lips against yours.

You melted against him, your hands running up his back until your fingers were in his hair as you guided him down towards you.

Joel hummed against your lips as he slowly walked you back until your back hit the counter. Parting from your lips he looked at you with dark eyes, before he helped you up on the counter, your legs crossing behind him as he stepped between them.

“Dreamed so long about this,” he brushed his nose over yours and you smiled.

“Me too,” you hummed, playing with his hair as one of his hands came up to cup your cheek.

He kissed you again, his lips moving against yours, making you dizzy. His hand slipped under your shirt, making you shiver as his fingers slowly ran up your spine.

You parted your lips for him, his tongue slipping into your mouth, deepening the kiss until you were both out of breath. You could feel him hard against your core, his hips moving just right against your clit, making you moan against his lips.

The door behind you opened and you both froze. Slowly you tilted your head to the side, finding Tommy grinning widely at you both.

“I’m just gonna take his and…” he helped himself to two cupcakes and turned around, walking back towards the door.

He stopped, stepping to the side to turn off the lights, giving you a wink before he closed the door behind him.

You let your head fall against Joel’s shoulder as you both laughed.

“I’m never gonna hear the end of that,” he sighed, shaking his head as he chuckled.

“Maybe we should take this somewhere else,” he said and you looked up at him. He kissed you again, both of his hands now on your ass as he rolled his hips against you.

“Lead the way,” you whispered against his lips, shrieking when he picked you up from the counter and carried you towards the door.

#my fic #Joel Miller #Joel Miller x fem. Reader #Pedro Pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #tlou #tlou fanfiction

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