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august126 · 1 month

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Scenes from an Italian Restaurant

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel Miller is a lot of things: your dad’s best friend, your boss, your next-door neighbor. And, y'know, the guy you’ve been harboring a massive crush on since your freshman year of college.

You're pretty sure your feelings aren't reciprocated... until one night that changes everything.

Warnings:Age Difference,Joel is 49 and Reader is 24,Oral Sex,Car Sex,semi-public sex (sort of),Flirting,Masturbation, and Dirty Talk

Words:12,334

a/n: so sorry it took me almost a month to post something new ffs - life got busy and my inspiration simultaneously disappeared.

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“Y’know, while ‘m happy that you’re livin’ with me again, I’d appreciate it f’ya started tryin’ to find a job that put that fancy degree t’use.” You peer over the top of the book you’d been reading at your dad, who’s taking up a spot at the end of your pool chair. His arms are crossed over his navy work shirt, drenched in sweat from working all day in the roiling heat customary of a Texas summer, and he’s watching you expectantly for an answer.

You set your book on your chest and sigh. It’s not that you aren’t thankful or don’t appreciate your dad allowing you to move back in with him after graduating from college a year ago. You fully understand how fortunate you are not to have to worry about paying rent; you’re also eternally grateful to your dad for hooking you up with a decent-paying job as a secretary at the contracting business his best friend owns. However, you were getting very, very tired of having this conversation.

“And you know that I am lookin’, but it’s silly for me t’apply for an entry-level position at a firm that’s gonna pay me less than what ‘m makin’ now.” Your dad rolls his eyes and grumbles something snippy under his breath, his go-to combo when he doesn’t like that you’re right. You pin him with a pointed stare. “Care to repeat that?”

“Said maybe I oughta tell Joel to dock your pay then,” your dad states, but any lingering irritation in his tone dissipates by the time he’s finished speaking. He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, and his slight frown turns into a small, teasing smile.

“Somebody say my name?” Your gaze shifts from your dad to the sliding glass door behind him… or, rather, the man who opened it.

Joel Miller is a lot of things: your dad’s best friend, your boss, your next-door neighbor. And, y'know, the guy you’ve been harboring a massive crush on since your freshman year of college. Currently, Joel Miller is the tanned, broad, tall man striding leisurely through your backyard, navigating around your pool, and stopping beside your father.

He slaps a hand on your dad’s shoulder in greeting and shoots you a bright grin as he coos, “Hey, lady.” Although Joel’s addressed you with the pet name for years, it never fails to cause an eruption of butterflies in your belly and a crimson blush to paint your cheeks.

“Hey, Joel,” you respond, trying to appear nonchalant even as you’re reining in your thundering heart and halting the pulse throbbing just south of your belly button. “Dad was jus’ sayin’ how he’s gonna ask ya to give me a pay cut.” Joel turns to your father, shaking his head.

“And risk losin’ my best employee? No can do, bud.” Even if he’s only joking, you preen at Joel’s praise. You cock an eyebrow at your dad, waiting for some sort of a comeback, but he only glares at you both before huffing.

“I don’t like when the two of ya gang up on me.” You giggle, and Joel shoots you a lazy wink and a warm, victorious smile. “Anyway,” your dad turns his attention back to Joel, “you said reservation’s at 6:45?”

“Uh-huh, so we oughta get our asses movin’,” Joel asserts, and your dad starts heading swiftly back toward your house. Joel’s eyes shift to you, still lounging on your purple pool chair, and he nudges your foot with the toe of his boot. “That means you too, lady.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Sarah’s birthday,” Joel answers incredulously, and a lightbulb goes off in your head; that’s why you felt like you were forgettin’ something all day. “Please tell me ya didn’t forget my daughter’s birthday. Your friend’s birthday,” Joel teases, shaking his head in feigned disappointment.

“ Of course I didn’t forget,” you lie, narrowing your eyes. Joel sees right through it.

“I bet. Now go get changed ‘fore ya make us late … unless you plan on wearin’ that to dinner.” The blush you just managed to school comes back in full force as he unabashedly rakes his eyes over your body, and only now do you realize how little the tiny black bikini you’re wearing covers.

Joel’s pretty brown eyes, usually so teeming with emotion, are utterly unreadable as you stand from your chair and begin heading inside. As you pass him, you mumble, “Don’t see why you’re complainin’.”

“Didn’t think I was.” You stumble a bit, glancing over your shoulder to find Joel’s gaze slowly sweeping down your body. When his stare lands on your ass, practically bare save for the minuscule cover your bikini bottom provides, his attention snaps back to your face, an impish grin on his lips that makes your skin flush.

“Fuck off, old man,” you reply cooly, flipping him off as you saunter inside; you can still feel Joel’s gaze on you as you ascend the stairs, and if that makes you sway your hips more than usual… well, who the fuck cares?

Once you’ve entered your bedroom and stripped off your bathing suit to assemble an outfit for dinner, your mind drifts into a space you’ve grown all too familiar with over the last five years.

It wasn’t like you didn’t understand how wrong your crush on Joel Miller was. Ignoring the fact that he’s been your dad’s best friend for years, he’s also over two decades your senior and has a daughter only a few years younger than you. It’s disgusting, really, that you have even the slightest hint of attraction toward the man. And yet…

You really can’t find it in yourself to care. You’re no longer a college student parading around under the guise of adulthood. No, you’re a woman now, a woman with autonomy who is perfectly capable of making her own choices. If one of those choices is fucking her dad’s best friend, well, then so be it.

Even as you tell yourself this for the thousandth time, the sentiment feels weak. Sure, the opportunity to fuck Joel Miller is perfectly viable, in theory. However, so many things would have to go right for a thing like that to happen, and you are a notoriously unlucky person; quite frankly, you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve gotten lucky to the degree that you would need to for something like having sex with Joel to happen.

For one, no one would ever be able to find out. Your dad, Sarah, any of your nosey neighbors. Not to mention that the logistical feat of such a thing would be tricky. Where would you guys meet up? Not your house, not his house, and anything public like a bar would be far too risky. No, it would have to be a one-off deal, and you’re not so sure you’d be able to stop at just a single taste of Joel.

And that’s all assumin’ he’d even want me, you think as you comb through your closet looking for a summer dress right for the occasion. Joel Miller had never, never shown a flicker of interest in you. That display by the pool, him ogling your ass in your skimpy bikini? That was just him keeping up the incessant string of banter that passed between the two of you. Sure, he was older than you, but that didn’t matter when it came to the way he treated you, as if you were his friend.

Right, his friend.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. This line of thinking was an absolute rabbit hole, forcing you down, down, down until there was a headache ebbing at your temples and your veins were licking with equal parts frustration and lust.

Three quick knocks come on your door, and your head whips around at the sound, pulling you out of your Joel-induced stupor. “Hey, lady?”

Fuck. You stand in your closet, stunned into inaction like a deer in headlights as you realize the only thing separating you, butt-ass naked, and Joel is the mahogany of your closed bedroom door.

“Just checkin’ to see ‘f you’re ready yet. Sarah jus’ texted, said her and what’s-his-face are waitin’ at the restaurant.” You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. You off-handedly wonder why you haven’t just slipped a dress on over your head on the off chance Joel decides to swing open your door, and you realize with a sick sort of excitement that you wouldn’t entirely mind Joel walking into your room at this very moment.

“Almost,” you call out, forcing your words to come out smooth as the image of Joel entering your room enters your mind unbidden; you imagine how his eyes would take in your naked form, how it’d take three short strides for him to reach you, how he might drop his head and lick one of your already hardened nipples into his warm, waiting mouth. You swallow thickly before calling out, “Just need another second s’all.”

A dull throb begins at the apex of your thighs as you picture the man on the other side of the wall putting his rough, work-worn hands all over your soft, supple skin. You wonder what his calloused touch would feel like against your flesh, if his honeyed skin would grow rosy under the thorough ministrations of your wet tongue, if his eyes would grow dark and a deep groan would drip from his lips as you closed your mouth around his-

“Sweetheart? Y’alright in there?” You think you mumble an airy affirmation as you mindlessly trace your fingers along your collarbone, imagining that they’re longer, thicker, belonging to another individual entirely. Any semblance of rationality escapes you as your other hand creeps down the smooth skin of your belly, and you cup your sex with a groan you’re barely able to muffle. You’re so outside of yourself, caught up in the slow path your fingers are tracing along your body, that you don’t notice the doorknob begin to turn.

Only when your door starts to lurch open do you fall back into your body from where you were floating a few seconds earlier. Your eyes blow wide, a strangled cry of surprise and horror falling from your mouth as you realize the precarious situation you’re about to be thrust into. “WAIT.”

The slow sway of your door opening halts immediately, and you let out a breath, spinning on your heel to face your closet. “I- ‘m jus’ comin’ in t’make sure you’re alright.” You hastily decide on a sage green strapless dress, something you can slip into quickly and inconspicuously, and rip the silk garment from its hanger.

“Yeah, no, ‘m good, Joel. Great, I’m great, jus’… yeah, gimme a sec.” You throw the dress on, its hem falling to your mid-thigh as you grab a pair of strappy sandals from the bottom of your closet and slip one on, hopping into the other as you approach your door.

“Y’sure, baby? Ya sound-” You slip your shoe on and grab the door handle in one movement, opening it fully to give you an unobstructed view of the man you’d just been on the verge of touching yourself to. Wouldn’t be the first time, you think to yourself unhelpfully.

He’s looking down at you, concern and curiosity bubbling in his gaze, and you raise your eyebrows at him. “See? ‘m fine, all good. Jus’ needed a minute.” Joel’s eyes blaze a lackadaisical trail over your body, and you swear you can feel him cataloging each inch of bare skin you have on display. He reaches out, plucking one of the flimsy green spaghetti straps between his thick fingers before letting it go to snap back against your shoulder. You stifle a gasp, and he brushes the hair careening down your chest back over your shoulder.

“This is pretty,” he says, voice low and velvety, and you can feel your pussy beginning to grow wet at his praise. He bends down until his mouth hovers just next to your ear, and you’re suddenly overwhelmed by the scent of him: musky cologne and citrusy body wash and something unidentifiable yet so undoubtedly Joel. “Did ya mean t’be wearin’ it backward?”

You look down at yourself, heat rising to your face when you realize that he’s right: you’ve managed to put your dress on the wrong way. You shove Joel’s shoulder, and he takes a step back, a smug grin painted on his lips that makes you roll your eyes.

“You’re a dick, y’know that?” He chuckles at your dig, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“And you’re makin’ us late to this dinner. Now, can I trust ya to fix your dress yourself, or do ya need me to help?” He delivers it like a joke, and the logical part of your brain reminds you of that the moment your pulse begins to flutter. He’s just teasin’ you like he always does.

However, the dark, hunger-tinged stare Joel is pinning you with doesn’t feel humorous. You swallow thickly, saliva pooling in your mouth and pinning your tongue to the roof. “I-” you stutter, words failing you as he continues dragging his eyes slowly over your flustered form. “You-”

“Spit it out, baby.” Baby. You turn the endearment over in your head a few times, testing the weight of it on your tongue. Finally, the corners of your lips pull up in a cheeky smile and your eyelids grow heavy as you gaze up into Joel’s face.

“You askin’ to undress me, Miller?” And this doesn’t feel like your typical banter. No, this feels weighted, laced with something headier. Something full of innuendo and promises and an unquenchable appetite for… something. And then your dad’s voice is cutting harshly through the fog.

“Hey hon, I’ll be- oh, Joel, didn’t realize ya came up here.”

Joel doesn’t even spare your dad a glance, eyes still on you as he says, “Jus’ wanted to check and see if your slow-ass kid was ready t’go.” Your dad snorts, and you narrow your eyes at Joel before turning the withering look to your father.

“Don’t laugh at that.”

“Sorry, sweetie, but ya are kinda slow.” Joel’s smirk only grows, and you huff incredulously. Your dad, apparently oblivious to the bubble of tension he popped, continues. “Anywho, was jus’ sayin’ that I’m gonna head out to the car ‘cause we need t’get goin’, so quit your dilly dallyin’ and let’s get a move on.” He raises his eyebrows at you expectantly, and you sigh in defeat.

You look at the ground as you mutter, “Yes, Dad, ‘m just about ready,” and your reply is met with a loud clap of your father's hands.

“Wonderful!” he exclaims, rubbing his palms together before bringing a heavy hand down on Joel’s shoulder. “C’mon, Joel, you can wait with me in the car. I need t’talk to ya ‘bout some work shit anyway.” Your dad begins to drag Joel down the stairs, but not before Joel can get the last word in between you.

He cranes his head back, catching your glare as he descends the stairs. “Y’heard your daddy, no more dilly dallyin’,” he sing-songs, and you scoff.

“Oh, fuck you, Miller.” “Language, ma’am,” you hear your dad chastise sternly, and you grumble a half-assed apology as you close your bedroom door behind you. It only takes you a minute to flip your dress so that you’re wearing it the correct way and throw on a pair of light pink, lace panties, bounding down the stairs and out the front door when you’re ready. Before you know it, you’re seated in the backseat of Joel’s old pickup truck as it cruises down the highway toward Austin’s metro area.

You watch the residential neighborhoods littered with little kids running through sprinklers and elderly couples sitting in chairs on their front porches morph into the city, full of streets tightly lined with buildings and bar-hoppers entering their first destination of the night. The sun still hangs rather high in the sky, dappling the world in a warm amber glow as Joel pulls up outside a quaint Italian bistro nestled between an ice cream parlor full of bright-eyed children and a sushi restaurant rattling with the heavy bass of the music from within.

“Cute lil’ place,” you say, surveying the old brick exterior of the building and the burgundy awning hanging over the open front door that bears the name of the restaurant, Palermio’s, in loopy, white script. “Sarah’s choice?”

Joel reaches his hand behind your dad’s headrest, using one hand to turn the wheel while he starts to squeeze his truck into the last snug parking spot outside of the bistro. “No, darlin’, I did.” You stare at his side profile as he maneuvers the truck, surprise lacing your features. It’s not until he’s parked the car and meets your eyes in the rearview mirror as he’s straightening out in his seat that you realize he’s bullshitting you.

“Asshole,” you mutter under your breath as you throw open your door and slide from the backseat, and he’s following you a second later.

“Y’know, you oughta be nicer t’me. I am your boss,” he says as you round his truck, his arm brushing yours, and you look up at him. “Could fire ya for bein’ disrespectful, ‘f I really wanted to.” You smirk at him and shrug.

“Ya could, but then you’d be losin’ your best employee, right?” His chest bounces as he laughs, and you smile at the pleasant noise before getting distracted by how his relatively new-looking cream-colored t-shirt bearing the album cover of Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors stretches tautly over the slopes of his wide shoulders.

“Damn right, lady,” he agrees, his gaze crawling over your body as he drags his thumb over his mostly pepper, slightly salt mustache that decorates his upper lip. Your skin crawls pleasantly as you feel him examining you, and you’re just about to reach your father, who’s waiting for the two of you by the entrance to the restaurant, when you hear Joel quietly say, “Prettiest employee, too.”

Your head whips around, feet planting on the concrete as you wait for Joel to say something, anything else. Much to your chagrin, he struts right past you shamelessly, heading inside as your dad gives you a confused look.

“You comin’, honey?” You shake your head, trying to dispel the medley of thoughts whirring around your brain. Did I hear him right? No, no, he didn’t mean that. Definitely not.

“Yeah, sorry,” you say, stepping inside with a sheepish smile in your dad’s direction. “Thought I heard someone callin’ my name, ‘s my bad.” Your dad just nods his head in understanding before draping an arm over your shoulder and steering you toward the back of the restaurant, where you can see Joel already greeting the members of your party who have already arrived.

As you draw closer, you watch him envelope his daughter in a firm hug, rocking back and forth for a few seconds as he whispers something in her ear. She giggles, punching him lightly in the shoulder, and when Sarah pulls back from his embrace, her deep brown eyes, which are almost identical to her father’s, catch a glimpse of you over his shoulder. Before you have a chance to react, she’s colliding with you so hard you grunt.

“You came!” she squeals, jumping up and down as you wrap your arms around her and giggle.

“Course I came, Sarah. Wouldn’t ‘ve missed your twenty-first birthday for the world, ‘re ya kiddin’?” She takes a step back, holding you by the shoulders before drawing you back in for another tight hug.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Jus’ didn’t know ‘f you’d be able to make it, didn’t know ‘f you’d have other plans or somethin’.” She bites her lip when you pull away this time, trying to hide the way she’s beaming at you, and a big smile paints your face.

“Nah, no plans more important than my best friend’s birthday.” She smiles and leads you back to the table, where your dad and Joel have already found their seats. You lean against her and whisper conspiratorially, “Did have to fight with my boss t’get some time off for the occasion, though. He can be a pain in the ass sometimes, like ya wouldn’t believe.” Sarah giggles, leveling you with a knowing grin.

“I’m sure I’ve got some idea,” she says as she takes her seat at the head of the table, and you slip around to take the only empty seat, which happens to be between Joel and Tommy, his younger brother that you’ve only seen a handful of times. You offer the younger Miller brother a polite smile, which he returns with a cheeky smirk before you turn back to the birthday girl.

“You’ve ain’t ever been that excited t’see me,” Joel says accusingly at Sarah, jerking his head toward where Sarah had practically tackled you, and you stifle a laugh at the hint of playful jealousy in his tone.

“‘s ‘cause I’m not a grumpy old man,” you snark, and Tommy guffaws beside you, reaching around your back to slap Joel’s shoulder lightheartedly.

“She gotcha there, big brother,” he says, accent saturated with his heavy Texas twang. Joel grumbles something incoherent and Tommy shoots you an amused wink. You watch your dad snort with laughter in his seat across from you, and Sarah’s boyfriend, Luke, who’s seated on her other side opposite Joel tries not to look too entertained by your ribbing of his girlfriend’s father, wisely busying himself with the menu.

A few minutes after ordering your drinks your waitress reappears carrying a large tray brimming with an assortment of alcoholic beverages. You take a sip of your Pinot Noir, hiding a small smile behind the fruity flavor as the waitress sets a large cocktail layered with green, white, and red liquid and adorned with a small Italian flag attached to a thin, black straw in front of a wide-eyed Sarah. You’re unable to mask your laughter, however, when Joel’s eyes find the massive drink and he nearly chokes on his sip of Peroni.

“Babygirl,” he sputters, still recovering from his small conniption, “that’s a lotta-”

“I’m twenty-one now, Dad, I can handle my alcohol,” Sarah assures him with an annoyed roll of her eyes and a look at you that says can you believe this guy? And it’s true, Sarah is more than capable of handling her drinks if the videos she’s shown you of her time at college are any indication.

“I know, jus’... jus’ pace yourself, yeah?” She concedes with a small huff, and you wiggle your eyebrows at her tauntingly.

“Yeah, Sarah, make sure ya pace yourself. Got a while ‘fore ya can hang with us big dogs. Right, Joel?” You elbow him in the side, and he looks at you disdainfully.

“You’re a little shit, y’know that?” he murmurs under his breath. You shrug, snagging a piece of fresh, warm bread from the basket the waitress sat in the middle of the table and dipping it in the plate of olive oil and seasoning before stuffing it in your mouth.

“Learned it fwom the besht,” you say merrily, grinning at him through your mouth full of food, and he sneers at you in disgust before turning his attention to your father and Tommy, who are in a heated debate over the Dallas Cowboys chances of success in the upcoming season.

“I’m tellin’ ya, Tommy, this s’our year! We jus’ picked up that kid from- from… aw shit, where’s he from again?” Your dad rubs his temples, hoping to dislodge the information from some small, dusty compartment of his brain.

“Notre Dame,” Joel chimes in as he reaches for his own piece of bread, and your dad snaps his fingers as his face lights up in remembrance.

“Notre Dame!” he bellows, and you shoot him a look that he promptly returns with an apologetic wince. “Notre Dame, yeah, s’right,” he says, quieter this time with a little smile, and you leave him and Tommy to continue their chat as you tune in to the conversation at the other end of the table.

“Anyway, Dad, so Becca-”

“Which one s’that?” Sarah looks at Joel in disbelief.

“Becca. Rebecca Landry. My best friend in high school, goes t’LSU with me, we lived together ‘fore I moved in with Luke…” Joel just stares at his daughter with vacant eyes, and you snort. “Dude, come on, ya literally grilled for her graduation party.” Joel shakes his head, taking a swig of his beer. You watch how his throat bobs as he swallows and quickly avert your eyes, hoping no one caught you gawking.

“Sorry, hon, doesn’t ring a bell.” She huffs, and Joel smirks, clearly just giving her a hard time.

“Whatever. Anyway, her boyfriend proposed to ‘er last week, and it was jus’ the cutest thing. Real private ‘cause y’know how she is. She told me they don’t have a date set yet, but they’re thinkin’ ‘bout next Spring. Said t’ask if she should add ya to the guest list.” Joel hums non-committally, clearly lacking an opinion on the matter, and you pinch his elbow. He jerks out of your grip, looking at you with annoyance, and you cock your head in Sarah’s direction. When he turns to see her expectant glance, he huffs, head leaning back as he stares at the ceiling.

“Tell ‘er I’ll be there,” Joel capitulates, and Sarah beams in excitement before giving you a grateful grin.

“Awesome! She’ll be so excited, she loves ya.” Joel crosses his arms over his broad chest, shaking his head slightly as he leans back in his chair and spreads his thighs farther. You have to try desperately to keep your breath from hitching at the action.

“Speakin’ o’ weddings and proposals n’ all that,” your dad says, giving Luke a friendly clap on the back. “When’s it your turn, buckaroo? ‘s been, what, three years of datin’? Gotta be soon, hm?”

Luke looks like he wants nothing more than to melt into a puddle and sink into the floor at the line of questioning, something your dad remains completely oblivious to. Feeling bad, you throw the guy a lifeline.

“Leave ‘im alone, Dad. Jesus, you ain’t even that interested in my love life,” you huff, sipping your wine. Luke seems to remember how to breathe, a look of thanks on his face as your dad scrunches his nose up.

“‘s cause I’m not. Don’t wanna know about some boy who’s wastin’ your time ‘cause he ain’t good ‘nough for ya.”

“Your daddy’s right, hon, ya deserve more than what some boy can give ya ,” you hear from your right side, and then a thick arm drapes loosely over your shoulders. You turn to look at Tommy, who’s closer to you than the last time you paid him any attention.

“Knock it off, Tommy,” you hear Joel grumble, and you watch Tommy’s eyes dart over your shoulder and narrow minutely. An expression of innocence plasters over his face to quickly replace the mischievous smirk previously there.

“Knock what off, big brother?” Your gaze shifts to Joel, and you nearly wilt at the stormy look he’s shooting his brother. His eyes are simultaneously full of emotion and totally unreadable, jaw ticking in… wait, is he jealous?

“Quit.” You bristle at Joel’s harsh tone, not realizing until it’s too late that when you shrink back at his timbre, you lean further into Tommy. You can feel the egotism rolling off of the younger Miller brother, and the tension building in Joel’s figure seems to grow until he’s at serious risk of snapping. You’re sure that the only way this ends is with Tommy making another haughty comment that results in Joel leaping over your lap and strangling the man…

“Alright, who ordered the lasagna?” Your waitress’ voice dissipates the thunderous air instantaneously, and everyone’s attention snaps to her. The wide, practiced smile she’s wearing falters for just a second, and she shifts uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, ‘m I interrupting somethin’?” The tight pinch of Joel’s face evaporates before your eye, and you watch, stunned, as he turns toward your waitress.

“Nah, darlin’, you’re alright. Reckon that’ll be mine,” he says, cool as clam. By the time all the food is dished out and you’re digging into your respective dinners, the near fight is long forgotten. Unfortunately, you’re not able to shake the bitter feeling of envy that twisted in your stomach at hearing Joel call the waitress “darlin’”.

Before long, all six of your plates have been cleaned, and each of you sits back in your chairs, thoroughly stuffed full of rich Italian food. Your dad belches, drawing a laugh from the other men at the table while your and Sarah’s faces pinch in distaste, and the casual conversation continues as the street outside grows raucous with the Austin nightlife.

Your dad, ever the chatterbox, is going on about some upcoming project at his contracting firm when you feel it: the firm weight of an arm draped over the backrest of your seat. You pay it no mind at first, chalking it up to Tommy’s touchy but harmless hands.

That is until you feel soft, gentle shapes being drawn into the bare skin of your bicep on Tommy’s side. Your brain doesn’t comprehend the logistics of this immediately, and your head snaps in Tommy’s direction to find the younger man’s attention focused raptly on your father with his hands in his lap.

Your back straightens, and goosebumps prickle across your skin when it finally clicks whose hands are on you; you slowly, inconspicuously face your father again, pretending like you’re listening so as not to spark anyone at the table’s awareness, all while peeking at Joel out of the corner of your eye.

At first glance, it appears that he, like everyone else at the table, is completely engaged with the words tumbling from your dad’s mouth. But you know Joel too well. You pick up on the slight quirk of his lips, the way his thick thighs spread almost obnoxiously wide so his knee grazes yours, and how he’s drumming the thick fingers of his other hand rhythmically against the table. Joel felt how your body reacted to his touch.

And he liked it.

That piece of information is what has the low burn in your belly from earlier in your bedroom reigniting, blazing up your skin and making your neck and chest flush a deep red. Joel must be able to sense your blundering state because he removes his hand from you altogether, causing your heart to drop. Your whole body begins to slump in disappointment just as you feel Joel replace his touch on the bare skin of your thigh, exposed when you sat down and the already short dress you’d thrown on in a panic earlier rode higher up your legs.

He squeezes you there, thumb passing back and forth lightly, and your thighs spread of their own volition to allow him more room. You can see his eyebrows raise slightly in surprise, but he’s able to play it off easily as a reaction to your dad’s story. You do the same with the small smile that stretches your lips as his hand begins to creep higher up your leg.

And it’s risky, what you’re doing. Allowing your dad’s best friend, the father of the girl you’ve lived next to almost your entire life, your boss, to inch his big, calloused hand closer and closer to where you want him most right here at this very public dinner.

And yet, you simply do not care.

Well, you don’t care until you feel the pad of his thumb brush your sex over your panties, and you jerk at the sensation, thighs closing to stop the movement of his hands. The action draws your dad’s attention to you, and his brow furrows as he scans your face.

“You okay, hon? You’re not lookin’ too hot.” Your pulse thunders in your ears as you fumble for an excuse.

“No, yeah, ‘m fine. Jus’... yeah, not – uh, not feelin’ too hot.” Everyone at the table looks at you with concern. Even Joel, though his eyes possess an air of arrogance at your state. The bastard.

“Babe, you can go home ‘f ya need to,” Sarah says, and your eyes go wide as you shake your head.

“No! No, ’m fine, really. I wanna stay for you, ‘s your birthday ‘n all.”

She waves her hand as though she’s physically batting away your excuse. “Party’s basically over anyway. Luke and I were gonna meet some friends at a bar a few blocks over anyway, so y’all are good t’go whenever.”

“Well, I’m ready t'head home now,” your dad says, beginning to rise from his chair. “Rangers game ’s on at 9, and 'f we hurry, I won’t miss more than the first inning.” Joel, reading your dad’s eagerness to get home as his cue to be ready to leave as well, stands, and you catch the way he subtly adjusts himself on the way up. You resign yourself to the fact that the fleeting, secret moment between you is slipping through your fingers, and, albeit reluctantly, you follow his lead.

Tommy’s still seated, sipping casually from his beer, when he informs your dad, “Nah, man, it’s Friday night in downtown Austin. Reckon y’all won’t get home ‘til the third inning, at least.” Your father curses, running a hand over his semi-bald head in genuine worry, and you almost have to laugh at the concern twisting his features into a grimace. The urge to laugh quickly fades as you watch Tommy shrug his shoulders and carelessly say, “There’s a place 'bout five minutes away, lil’ sports bar my buddies and I go to t’watch the game sometimes. Can get kinda rowdy, but you’re welcome to tag along, ‘f ya want.”

Your jaw almost falls off at Tommy, who’s completely oblivious to the bone he’s just thrown you. When you turn just enough to allow you a view of Joel out of the corner of your eye, you immediately notice his almost imperceptibly stiffer posture. You watch your dad’s face light up with excitement, a hell yeah on the tip of his tongue.

And then, suddenly, his expression drops and he’s looking at you guiltily. “Aww shit, Tommy, that sounds great, but ‘f this one,” he says, jabbing a thumb in your direction, “ain’t feelin’ well, I oughta get ‘er home.” Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

You go to object, to insist, practically beg your dad to take Tommy up on his offer so that it’s just you and Joel on the ride home, but Joel beats you to it. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, man, I’ll take ‘er.” For the second time in mere minutes, you’re filled with the overwhelming urge to gawk at one of the Miller brothers.

“You sure, Joel? Don’t wanna inconvenience ya or nothin’.” You watch Joel shrug, and then he turns to you, pinning you with an unreadable stare.

“Y’alright with that, lady?” You stare at him, speechless. Are you alright with spending the entire ride home, perhaps even longer if your dad stays to watch the whole game and Sarah is bar-hopping, alone with Joel Miller right after his hand was brushing against your wet, wanting pussy?

Yeah, you were pretty fucking alright with that.

Your silence must draw on for an uncomfortably long time because Joel raises his eyebrows at you, prompting an answer. “Yes!” you say, just a touch too loud, and you take a deep breath before turning back to your dad. “Yeah, sounds good – cool, ‘s cool with me.”

Your dad gives you one more half-hearted once-over, verifying that you don’t need his escort home, but he’s in a losing battle with himself; the moment that Joel offered his services, your dad was sold. The coy little, “Well, ‘f you’re sure it’s not too much trouble,” he extends to Joel is like a tepid stamp of finality as his mind is already half-full with Rangers jargon.

Joel gives your dad a nod before jerking his head toward the door. “C’mon, darlin’, let’s get ya home.” And you try, you really do try not to walk with your chest puffed out the entire way to Joel’s truck. You try to keep up the facade of illness that was brought on by your lustful tizzy.

But Joel called you darlin’, and fuck if it didn’t sound better falling from his lips when it was directed at you and not some waitress.

***

Tommy, for perhaps the first time in his entire life, was right; traffic absolutely crawled in the downtown Austin area at this time on a Friday night. You’d peeled away from the restaurant almost thirty minutes ago, when the sun was beginning its descent.

Now, the analog numbers on Joel’s dash blink 8:57 p.m. , the summer sky having just shifted from muddy brown to steel grey and will soon start to give way to the dark of night and the whisperings of stars, and you’ve just managed to make it out of the city.

Thirty minutes, nearly two thousand seconds, and each one totally void of speech. Joel stared straight out the front windshield, hands carefully gripping the steering wheel as you leaned your cheek against the cool glass of the passenger window and watched the metro landscape give way to soil and farmland, groups of clubgoers replaced by black and brown spotted cows.

It’s not until the current CD in Joel’s radio reaches its end and the gears click, switching to the familiar crooning voice of Bob Dylan, that your soft singing breaks the silence.

“What was that?” Joel asks, and you turn your gaze to watch him, focus still intent on the road in front of him.

“Nothin’, just singin’.” He looks at you then, just a quick glance in your direction, but it makes your blood sing.

“Y’like Bob Dylan? “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door”, hm?” You shrug noncommittally, and his responding smirk makes you sit up in your seat.

“What’re ya laughin’ at?” Joel just shakes his head, and you lean over and swat his bicep playfully. “What?”

“Nothin’, baby.” The word sounds perfect in his low, gruff timbre, and you grin stupidly. When he sees your expression, he reaches over and wraps his big palm around your knee, giving it a shake. “Got good taste s’all. Didn’t expect it from ya.” You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest and trying to pretend like the large spread of his hand over your bare skin doesn’t make your core throb.

“Don’t act so surprised, Miller. You should know better than anyone how much I like old shit.” He clucks his tongue, sliding his hand farther up your leg and squeezing your thigh in warning.

“Careful,” he advises teasingly, but you’re not feeling particularly cautious tonight.

“Says you.”

“Says me?”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no heat behind the action as all the warmth in your body is currently shooting to a spot in your tummy. “Yeah, Joel, says you. I wasn’t the one with my hands between your legs in the middle of dinner tonight.” You watch Joel’s posture straighten and you try to hide your grin at his reaction.

Bingo.

You bite your lip and watch his eyes dart in your direction. Even in the ever-darkening dusk, you can see the hint of hunger in his pupils. “Didn’t see you complainin’.” You adjust in your seat, and Joel’s hand slips higher, his pinky just barely dipping beneath the hem of your dress.

“‘s ‘cause I liked it,” you say matter-of-factly, and you watch him exhale heavily. His head swings lazily to look at you, eyes dropping to where his palm rests on your slightly spread thighs before traveling up to meet your stare.

“Yeah? Liked me touchin’ your pussy with all those people ‘round? Any of ‘em coulda caught us, pretty girl. Coulda caught me feelin’ how fuckin’ wet you were, soakin’ through your panties.” And you’re almost sure Joel’s trying to make a point in there somewhere. That what you two did was risky in and of itself, not to mention the fact that he was touching you like that in public.

And yet all you can focus on is that name. Pretty girl. You think it’s your favorite thing he’s ever called you.

When you don’t answer right away, Joel looks back to the road. You watch him check the rearview mirror, and then he’s making a left down a long road and parking the car on a small dirt pull-off a few hundred feet in.

You look around, surveying your surroundings; tall prairie grass decorates your side of the road while a large cornfield stretches over the side closest to Joel, and the only thing lighting the earth for a few miles in any direction is the soft glow of the moon overhead. When you focus your attention on Joel again, half of his face is shadowed while the gleam of lunar opalescence illuminates the other half.

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight, and you can’t help but stare. You reach toward Joel, cautiously at first, but emboldened when he squeezes your leg. You cup his jaw and rub your thumb over his stubbled jaw; his eyes flutter closed at the sensation, and you shuffle closer, Joel’s hand falling away from you as you sit up on your knees and reach across the center console to cup the dark side of his face with your other hand.

His palm finds a new position on your hip, and when his eyes open again, revealing his dark, chocolatey irises to you, your body leans closer toward his of its own volition. As if something inside of him, perhaps the very marrow of his bones, is magnetized to yours.

“Joel,” you say, soft voice cutting through the silence in the cab of the truck.

“Hmm?”

“Is this… is this bad? What we’re doing?’ His eyes dart around your face, taking in your heated gaze with a warmth of his own. He sighs as his other hand traces up the side of your body before slipping around your shoulders and resting on the nape of your neck.

“I wouldn’t say it’s good.” You nod, scratching your nails lightly through the salt-and-pepper beard he’s let grow.

“Should we stop?” It comes out as a whisper, laced with apprehension, tediousness, and want. So, so much want.

“Probably.” And he’s right. Whatever this thing between you and Joel is, it’s not feasible. Sure, it would be great. Amazing, even… until it’s not. Until the appetite for each other dies out and what’s left is a hollow skeleton of awkward encounters and forced conversation to keep up appearances.

Either that or the hunger becomes all-consuming, to the point where you can’t eat, can’t breathe, can’t sleep without thoughts of Joel dominating your mind.

And maybe that’s worse, you think. Finding out what Joel tastes like, what it feels like when he sinks into your wet heat, just for it to one day be stolen from you.

Because there isn’t an angle to approach this from that doesn’t end in the same unfortunate reality; Joel can’t be yours. He will never be yours.

And, so, yeah. You probably should stop. But as you go to pull away, to take your hands off of Joel and sit back in your seat while Joel returns the truck to the main road before depositing you safely at home like the good friend he is, Joel’s grip on the nape of your neck tightens. And then he’s tugging your mouth to meet his and your hands, still cupping his cheek, are pulling his face in to meet you halfway.

When Joel’s lips slot against yours, you’re surprised by how soft he is. Joel Miller, perpetually gruff and probably born with callouses etched into his hands, is so inconceivably gentle at the first contact of his mouth against yours. You sigh, breathing him in as he threads his fingers into your hair, and a moment of tranquility washes over you. This truck is the only place that has ever or will ever exist, and you and Joel are the only two people in the world.

You slide one of your hands from his jaw to his neck, stroking the solid strength of his throat, and a rough noise vibrates from him. You repeat the motion experimentally, and he groans into you, tongue darting out to politely ask for entrance into your mouth.

You accept with an enthusiastic moan, and that’s when the seemingly endless reservoir of Joel’s reserve drains dry. He licks into you, tongue caressing yours when you part your lips for him, and the hand in your hair tightens, keeping you held steadily against him. He feasts on you, stealing the air you breathe as he kisses you ferociously.

Joel sucks on your tongue when you go to mewl, and the sound is replaced by a wanton whine. You roll your hips over nothing, and Joel clocks the movement immediately. You feel his reluctance as he drags his mouth from yours, and you sit and wait, carefully assessing every minute change in his expression as you try to regain your composure.

You’re sure you’re supposed to be embarrassed right now, ashamed that you couldn’t keep your neediness in check. However, you can only think about two things: how fucking horny you are at the moment, and how that was probably the only time you’ll ever kiss Joel because this entire thing is about to come crashing down in short-lived, fiery oblivion.

But Joel does something. Something that really shocks you, leaves you vulnerable to attack and exposed right down to the root of you. He looks you up and down, from the slightly frumpled state of your green dress to the no-doubt wild gleam in your eyes, and smirks before saying, “You need t’be filled up, don’t ya, baby?”

You smile and nod, licking your lips as you appraise the man sitting in front of you. He’s so intoxicatingly broad, the sleeves of his shirt stretching tightly over his biceps while the legs of his jeans pull taut along his thighs. You shift in your seat again, causing Joel to pull you closer, and though you’re uncomfortably sprawled across the center console, you’ve never felt more right than you do right now.

Your lips are brushing Joel’s, so close you can feel the warm puffs of breath leaving his nostrils, and any slight surge forward by either of you would connect your mouths again. Instead, you stay like that, so close but still too far for your liking.

“Tell me what it is you want, sweetheart.” You angle your head, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his mouth before drifting your lips back to hover over his.

“Want your cock, Joel.” Your bluntness must take him by surprise because his head falls back against his seat and he groans. You take the opportunity to drop your lips to his neck, kissing it lightly before licking up the column of his throat and biting delicately at the junction where his neck meets his jaw.

“Yeah?” He takes one of your hands and drags it down his front, letting you feel the muted strength of his abdomen tailored from years of manual labor and the soft swell of his belly before landing on the thick bulge in his pants. You pull away from where you were beginning to leave a small bruise on his neck to look at where your hand cups his clothed erection, and you practically drool at the sight. “You want this, hmm?”

“Yes,” you confirm airily before your eyes snap up to meet his, heavy-lidded and clouded with lust. “Please, Joel, I- I need it.” He nods, the hand that guided yours leaving you to your own devices and drifting back up to rub his thumb over your lips. You take the opportunity to massage him through his pants, and he sighs, smirking at you.

“Tell me where ya need it, honey,” he lilts, and you grip his bicep as you squeeze his cock lightly. “Need it here?” He nudges his thumb gently between your parted lips, and even as you shake your head, your mouth opens to him, allowing him to push his finger inside. You swirl your tongue over the salty pad of his thumb, switching to mellow kitten licks before taking it deeper.

“No?” he asks, quirking a brow at you. He presses his thumb down against your tongue, and you open your mouth wide so he can see down your throat. “Gotta tell me where then, baby.” You close your mouth again, sucking on his thumb briefly before pulling off of him with a lewd pop.

Your eyes never leave his, and you watch them turn impossibly darker when you tell him earnestly, “My pussy. Want you to stretch my cunt with your fat cock.” He huffs lightly at the vulgarity of your words, and you squeeze him through his pants again.

“You’re a dirty fuckin’ girl, y’know that?” He looks almost in awe, and you smirk at him, beginning to crawl across the center console to straddle him. When he stops you with a hand to your sternum, you look at him in confusion. “We can’t tonight, darlin’. Wanna take my time with you when I fuck ya, gotta make sure I get ya ready.”

You’re so utterly disappointed you ache with it, pouting at him as you draw in close. “But I’m ready now, Joel. So fuckin’ wet for you, have been since the restaurant.”

He gives you a chaste kiss before pulling back and jerking his head toward your seat. “Show me.” You smirk as you slink back into your seat. You rest with your back against the car door, your right leg dangling off the seat while you tuck your left leg up and spread your knees farther apart, causing the hem of your dress to ride up your thighs until it’s brushing your tummy. You can tell by the wrecked look in Joel’s eyes that from this angle, he has a perfect view of the damp spot decorating the slip of pink lace that is your underwear.

“Fuck, baby, ya weren’t lyin’,” he mutters, fingers smoothing his mustache. “Pretty lil’ panties are soaked. That all for me?” You bite your lip and nod, pupils blown wide and eyelids heavy as you ghost your fingertips over the soft skin of your thighs. He makes a noise of appreciation as he watches your movements hungrily, fist clenching as your digits move closer to your aching core.

“Mhm, f’course it is,” you assure, letting out a breathless, needy gasp when your fingers brush your clit over your underwear. You’re sure you must look fucked out, and you’d be embarrassed by that fact if it weren’t for the heady look Joel’s pinning you with right now. You whine as Joel brings his hand down to palm the thick, rigid outline of his cock bulging against his jeans, and your mouth goes dry at the sight. You roll your hips and whine at the stimulation, doing it again without breaking eye contact with Joel.

He squeezes himself and groans as you rut slowly against yourself, dipping a finger down to tease at your soaking entrance over your damp panties, and he smirks. “You gonna show me how ya fuck yourself, baby? Show me how ya like it, hm?”

And you would. You really, really would. Except Joel Miller is sitting in front of you with nothing but a few measly scraps of fabric preventing you from his hard length, and you think that it would be such a waste to not take advantage of that fact.

Besides, you’ve already made yourself come more times than you can count with Joel Miller’s name on your tongue.

“No, baby,” you shake your head, and his brows pinch in confusion. You lick your lips, hand halting its ministrations as you sit up on your haunches and stare at Joel. “Want ya to fill me up.”

He huffs exasperatedly at that, and his tone is laced with annoyance when he says, “Jus’ told ya, ‘m not fuckin’ ya t’night-”

“Joel.” Your interruption shuts him up and he watches you lean in. You brush your lips over his, along his jaw and up his cheek before halting by his ear. “I want you,” you say, dragging a hand down his chest to rest over his in his lap, “to put your cock in my mouth and fill me up.”

You apply pressure down over his hand, making him squeeze himself and the sound he makes is something close to a growl. He angles his head so that your lips meet for a heated kiss and he licks into your mouth immediately, tongue dancing with yours.

“Yeah?” Joel breathes into your mouth, and the hand not palming his dick threads into the hair at the nape of your neck. He tugs, pulling your head back so that you look down your nose at him with wide eyes and heavy lids. “Ya wanna suck me off?” You smile almost shyly and nod, and he tuts at you, bending to kiss the hollow of your throat before licking a stripe up your neck.

“Don’t go quiet on me now, darlin’. You had so much t’say earlier, know this pretty mouth s’good for more than just takin’ my dick.” You whine, pressing your thighs together as best you can and rubbing, trying to give yourself some, any friction.

“Wanna taste you, Joel,” you murmur, already delirious and you haven’t even gotten your mouth on him. “Want it so bad, please.”

He rakes his eyes over you, takes in the needy glide of your thighs against each other and the ragged pants making your chest heave. He must take pity on your haggard form because he grins affectionately and releases his hand from your hair.

“Since ya asked so nicely,” he says, palm gliding around to sit on your shoulder. He strokes the column of your throat a few times, watching you with a hooded gaze before nodding toward his crotch. “Go on, baby. Show me how much ya want it.”

You don’t need to be told any more than that before you’re hastily undoing his belt, ripping it from his pants and tossing it into the backseat while simultaneously popping the button on his jeans. Where your movements are hurried and ravenous, Joel’s are soft and sweet; he strokes your back lightly, broad, calloused palm feeling heavenly as it tracks over your bare skin.

You lower the zipper on his jeans and he lifts his hips, allowing you to drag the coarse fabric down his thighs. It takes you a second after you’ve maneuvered his pants out of your way to realize you’re face to face with the stiff outline of Joel’s cock, straining against the black fabric of his boxers. Your mouth goes chalky when you see the small dot of moisture near his fat tip, and you can’t stop yourself from leaning over and pressing a kiss to the spot.

Your groan is in unison with his, and Joel must be growing impatient because his hand snakes up to gently cradle your neck. “Don’t be a tease, pretty girl,” he scolds tenderly, and the endearment causes you to look up at him through your lashes. What you find in his eyes is something lusty, full of desire and want and… pure, unadulterated awe. It makes your pussy flutter around nothing.

“Wasn’t bein’ a tease,” you say, bending back down to mouth at his cock over his boxers, and he moans when you lave at his swollen tip through his underwear.

“Nah, jus’ so needy ya can’t even wait ‘til I get my cock out t’put your mouth on it, hm?” You lick up his dick and feel it twitch, his thigh tensing underneath the hand you have braced there. You smirk, looking up at him as you dip your pointer fingers under the band of his underwear, hooking your digits and arching your eyebrow.

He acquiesces with a lazy smile, lifting his hips, and you slowly drag the tight fabric of his boxers down to where his pants pool around his knees. However, you don’t immediately look at Joel’s length after fully freeing it from the confines of his clothes. You’re not sure why a cool feeling of nervous anticipation washes over you, but you find yourself stalling, rubbing your thumb over the inside of his knee and kissing his thigh gently.

Joel, the attentive man he is, picks up on your nerves immediately. He massages the area where your spine meets your skull, and you practically melt at the feeling. “Y’okay?” he says softly, and you nod, turning your head to rest on his thigh. Your eyes avoid his dick, jumping up to land on his face. His expression is so kind, so compassionate and observant, that it makes you ache.

“‘m fine. More than fine, ‘m good. Great.” He nods, stroking your cheek before he frowns.

“Y’know, ‘f ya aren’t feelin’ it anymore, we can stop. We don’t have’ta-”

“S’not that,” you mutter, and he stops talking, waiting for you to go on. You inhale deeply, looking for the courage to speak your thoughts into the charged atmosphere of the truck. “I jus’... don’t want ya to regret this.” He flashes you a perplexed look before tipping his head back and laughing. Your cheeks blaze with heat, embarrassment creeping in to tamper the fire of want, and you bury your face into Joel’s thigh to hide.

“Baby,” he says, and when you don’t respond, he grabs your jaw and makes you turn to him. “Baby. Look at me.” You stare, lip twisted in your teeth, and you can’t help but feel small under the weight of his gaze. He angles your chin down then, and you finally let your eyes fall, taking in the cock you’ve tried to conjure in your imagination while your fingers were stuffed in your pussy more times than you can count.

In a word, Joel Miller’s dick is pretty. Thick and long and tan. Veiny and girthy, easily the biggest you’ve ever seen. His tip, which is a few shades darker than every other part of his length, is an angry red, weeping precome from the little slit at the top. The thick weight of him bobs up and sits at attention against his belly, resting against him obediently. Your mouth pools with saliva at the sight of it.

Through the cotton in your ears, you can just barely make out when Joel says, “You tell me, honey. ‘s that look like regret t’you?” You swallow thickly and shake your head.

“N-no,” you stutter, sitting up slightly. You admire the way pearly beads of precome trail down his length and subconsciously lick your lips.

“No.” You can feel his stare on the side of your face, but you can’t focus on anything except the cock in front of you that has you drooling while your cunt begs to be filled. “Want this, sweet girl, jus’ as bad as you, and that ain’t gonna change tomorrow or the day after or next week. I want this,” he says, and he says it with such confidence and surety that you have no choice but to believe him. You nod, almost in a trance, before bending over and pressing a chaste kiss to his fat head.

He must not have been expecting that response from you because at the contact of your lips against his hard member, his head falls back against the seat and he groans, the sound drawing out when you start to press soft kitten licks to his slit.

“That’s it, honey – fuck, feels good.” You preen under his praise, smirking as you spread your lips to wrap around his tip. He hisses through his teeth, and the noise is all you need to start slowly working him down your throat. He’s so big, and even just the head of his cock has your jaw straining slightly.

You know that there’s no way you’ll be able to take him fully in your mouth, that you’ll have to use one, if not both hands to stroke the rest of his long, thick dick as you focus your attention on the head. But that doesn’t stop you from trying.

You pull off of him quickly, and he responds with a disappointed little grunt, mouth turned down in a depressing little frown. That is, until he watches you spit into your hand and place your palm around his base, stroking him slowly. A lopsided smile replaces his previous expression and when you twist your fist at the same time your mouth latches back onto his cock, he can’t help but jerk his hips. Joel’s thrust makes his tip kiss the back of your throat and it takes you by surprise, making you gag.

You watch his eyes go wide in worry as he immediately murmurs, “‘m sorry, baby,” his voice utterly wrecked. You lick from the space your fist occupies and swirl your tongue over him a few times, looking into his eyes as you catch your breath.

“S’okay, Joel,” you purr, lips against him as his cock twitches at the low cadence of your voice. “I can handle it, I won’t break.” And then you’re right back to easing him down your throat. Drool dribbles from your mouth as you work him in your fist, stroking and twisting and pulling while your tongue focuses on the sensitive area you’ve discovered just under his head.

The cab of the truck fills with the melody of your slick mouth sucking Joel off, punctuated by the sweet sounds falling from his lips. Joel isn’t a particularly talkative person, but you’re incredibly happy to find that all that changed when your head was bobbing up and down his length.

“Good girl, perfect fuckin’ girl,” he grits out, tightening his hand into a fist and slamming it against his window a few times as he struggles to keep his hips stationary. You hum around him, taking his hand in yours and guiding it to thread into your hair to encourage him to move. A throaty groan rips through him as he realizes what you’re asking, and he thrusts lightly into your mouth.

You relax your throat, allowing him to push deeper than he had been just a minute ago, and the feeling of being so utterly full of him makes you whine, shuffling slightly to relieve the pressure building at the apex of your thighs.

“Y’like that, sweetheart? Like when I fuck your pretty face?” The utter filth he’s spewing at you makes you gasp and whimper, and he laughs almost smugly at your reaction to his words. “Yeahhh, you like that. Go on, baby, touch yourself while you suck my cock.” You don’t have to be told twice, snaking your hand down to rub frantically at your aching clit while he slowly, gently jerks his hips into the tight, warm, wet vice of your mouth.

You feel yourself teetering on the edge of orgasm in no time, seeing as how you were already thoroughly worked up from your little display at the restaurant and everything that’s transpired in Joel’s truck since. Actually, if you’re being honest, you’ve been soaking into your panties since that stunt you pulled in your room before you even made it to dinner.

You feel stuffed to the brim, Joel’s cock hitting a spot in your throat over and over that has tears of pleasure dripping down your cheeks to combine with your spit lathering his cock. He brushes his big thumb over the path a tear careens down, brushing away the wetness as he drags his hand down to cradle your throat.

“Doin’ real good for me, doin’ perfect.” He squeezes lightly around your neck and curses. “Shit, darlin’, I can feel my cock right here.” He taps your throat and you whine, eyes rolling back as you rut desperately against your fingers. You’re so, so close, and you can tell that Joel is too by the way his tempered pace is growing more erratic, his shallow thrusts less controlled. The noises dripping from his lips to meet your ears are gruffer now too, words he’s failing to string into sentences as they're cut off by expletives and needy moans.

Joel looses a low, gravelly groan that signals he’s mere moments from reaching his peak, and you hear him choke out, “Where do ya want it, baby?’ just as the pull of pleasure burning in your tummy goes taut. You don’t answer, opting instead to simply pull off of him and seat your open mouth at the head of his cock, sticking your tongue out and looking up into his face. Joel smirks as you continue jerking him off with the hand not paying attention to your clit, but his smile falls into a slack-jawed look of lust as his balls pull tight and he comes.

The thick ropes of warm cum spurting over your tongue and decorating the inside of your mouth are just what you need to push you into your own climax; your legs shake and you let a high-pitched sound ring through the truck cab as your cunt clenches hard around nothing, wetness seeping from your underwear and coating the insides of your thighs.

Despite your own orgasm, you make sure to catch every last drop of Joel’s spend, holding it on your tongue for him to see. The space goes silent for a few seconds, both of you basking in your respective post-coital bliss as your eyes scan over each other. Your gaze hangs heavy as he takes in your sweaty, disheveled form languidly before landing back on your face. Joel shoots you an endearing, sweet look, before brushing the hair plastered to your sweaty forehead away from your face.

“Go on, honey. Swallow it f’me.” You do as Joel says, swallowing the sticky fluid he’s shot down your throat, and you find the salty, tangy taste surprisingly pleasant. You clean the corners of your mouth where some of his seed landed with your thumb and, with his eyes on you, push the digit into your mouth, sucking it dry. The dirty act makes Joel shake his head and chuckle, and once you’ve finished, you open your mouth and tip your head back to show him that you’ve taken care of his mess.

You both sit there for a while, just staring at each other with your head resting on his thigh as he strokes your cheek. You’d almost call the gesture loving, but you don’t want to be presumptuous. After a decent amount of time has passed and the stars have come to bear witness to your dirty deed, you turn your head and catch the pad of Joel’s thumb in a soft kiss.

“Oughta get back,” you say, reluctantly breaking the silence. He nods, and you stay like that for a second longer before sitting back in your seat. Joel starts the truck and traverses down the lonely path toward the main road. As he pulls back out onto the black asphalt, likely still warm from the summer sun that’s long disappeared, you can’t help but wonder if this moment will forever belong to the space between that long stretch of prairie grass and corn stalks.

You can’t help but hope that it won’t.

***

As Joel nears your development, you pull down the sun visor on your side and flip open the mirror. Your mouth falls open and a little gasp slips at the sight that meets your eyes. Joel must hear it because his gaze flickers in your direction.

“Somethin’ the matter?” he asks, worry lacing your tone, and you almost giggle at his concern.

“I’m a fuckin’ mess,” you groan, raking your fingers through the hair that Joel’s fingers knotted. Your lips are swollen and chapped, your eyelids heavy with the look of lust, and there’s a track of mascara streaking down your cheek from your tears. To put it bluntly, you look like you’ve been freshly fucked.

Joel looks at you again and barks out a laugh as he turns down your street; he pulls into your driveway and puts the car in park so that he can turn to you more fully. You’re frantically trying to will the bright blush on your cheeks indicative of sex from your cheeks as you wipe furiously at the now-dried trail of black mascara.

“Waterproof” my ass.

Your head snaps in Joel’s direction when you hear him chuckle again, your eyes wide with a plea for help. He shrugs, smirking slightly. “Better get inside ‘fore someone sees ya, or else they’ll know what we’ve been up to.”

You know he’s teasing, but his words make you deflate slightly nonetheless as they feel a little bit like he’s kicking you out; however, you steel yourself quickly. There was nothing for him to kick you out of, and it was silly of you to think otherwise. Sure, you’d just sucked his dick and made him come down your throat. And, yeah, maybe he’d almost gotten caught with his hand between your legs at dinner. But that didn’t mean anything.

Just two adults engaging in a casual hookup. That’s all.

Even as you try and convince yourself of this, your reasoning, and consequently your attitude, falls flat. You grunt with thinly veiled annoyance as you grab the door handle and make to leave. “Could’ve jus’ parked at your house, I woulda walked,” you mutter, irritation simmering in your gut as you go to open the door, but then a strong hand reaches across your lap to wrap around your hand on the handle and pull it back shut.

When you try again and are met with the same result, you huff and turn, coming face to face with Joel. His brows are furrowed and the corner of his plush lips are turned down. You hate yourself for wanting to kiss him right now, even though he’s actively telling you to go while not allowing you to do so.

“What?” you bite out, and it comes out harsher than you mean it to. He squeezes your hand, and you feel tension you didn’t realize was making your body go rigid ease.

“What’s a’matter, baby?” The pet name makes you blush, and now you feel even more stupid.

“Nothin’,” you lie. Rather convincingly too, you think proudly, until Joel cocks an eyebrow and informs you just how shoddy your facade is.

“Know ya too well t’believe that bullshit. Tell me what’s wrong.” You huff, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. You drop your hands into your lap, eyes falling to watch your thumbs twiddle. You don’t think you can look into those all-consuming brown eyes right now.

“Jus’... I dunno, bein’ dumb. Thought you were kickin’ me out or somethin’.” You shrug indifferently, and he sits there for a second, watching you fidget nervously. You see him scan your surroundings out of the corner of your eye, making sure no prying eyes are around, and before you can even react, Joel’s gripping the back of your neck and turning your head to meet his lips in a bruising kiss. You melt into him, sighing in relief at the feeling of his tongue licking the seam of your mouth.

You stay like that, greedily tasting each other. Or, in Joel’s case, greedily tasting the lingering flavor of himself in your mouth. He pulls back suddenly, chest heaving and eyes dark, and you lick your lips and grin at him.

“I’ll see ya soon, baby,” he says with conviction, and you nod slowly. But apparently your response isn’t convincing enough for him, because he pulls you in closer and says against your lips slowly, “I will see you soon.”

“Okay,” you breathe into his mouth, and he kisses you chastely once, twice before opening your door and tapping your thigh.

“Now get.” You smile, hopping out of his car, and you can feel his eyes on you the entire way to your front door. Even when you’ve disappeared into your house, you can feel the brand of his gaze on your flesh.

You watch through the window as he sits in his truck for another minute, and then he reverses down your driveway and pulls into the one next door, hopping out of his truck and leisurely heading up to his front door. You watch him walk into his house, and only then do you stop watching.

You’re not entirely sure how you get up to your bedroom, but you’re almost able to believe that you floated there like an apparition, head airy and thoughts bordering on dream-like. When you collapse on your bed, your mind is on the feel of Joel’s tongue in your mouth, of his cock thrusting into your throat, of what that same tongue and those same thrusts might feel like in your pussy.

What you’re not thinking about is how utterly fucked you are. You’d told yourself once that you wouldn’t be able to do a thing like this with Joel because you’d never have your fill, always wanting more after that first initial taste of him. But you’d gone against your better judgment tonight, and now that little crack of yearning had split into a yawning chasm of want; greedy and unsatiated and hungry.

Hungry for one thing, one person, one man: Joel Miller.

Yeah, you were fucked

___________________________________________________________

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #dad!joel miller #dbf!joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #dbf!joel #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #joel miller imagine #joel fic #joel the last of us

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rosedom · 3 months

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Mirror sex w them genshin pretty boys?? Thinking about baizhu or kaeya sending you a video of them playing with themselves to rile you up knowing you're at work and begging you to come home just so you can satiate their hunger.

And once you do come home you fuck them Infront of a mirror telling them how much of a whore they are and make them squir-

"an unnamed player has invited BAIZHU and KAEYA to play . . . reflections of body

✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!top!male!reader, sub!bottom!ftm!characters, mirror sex, vaginal sex, squirting, creampies, praise & dirty talk, alluded dacryphilia (kaeya) .

A/N : sorry that this took so long >< i had finished it the other night, but i forgot to save; i ended up losing the majority of kaeya's part . . .

"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."

Your phone lights up, a quiet ping in the otherwise silent office. You've got yourself neck-deep in paperwork, scribbling silently and going over contract after contract; really, you wouldn't have even bothered answering your phone, but when the screen reads your husband's name, you just have to.

Scenarios of, What if he was in trouble? What if the house burned down? What if, what if, what if? filtered through your mind as you hurriedly grab the device to see what he send.

At first, it worries you to see only numbers followed by a .mov in the notification bar, right under his name. You tap on it quickly, tense and ready for something, but—

"Ah!" your husband cries out your name, the speakers of your phone unbelievably loud in the silence of your office. You jump, rushing to press mute; but just before, you press your phone to your ear, the sound one notch off of being silent, and you hear, "I—I miss you.

"P—please," his voice continues to sing, "come home. I need you, please, 'm so hard for—for you!"

Well, fuck. Now you're hard for him; and you're still on the clock.

Great.

At least now you have the rest of the workday to think of how you'll make him pay.

Let's hope that hard-on of yours can be willed away, yeah?

Baizhu paints a pretty picture like this.

"So shy, all a sudden," you murmur, resting your head on his shoulder. Behind him, like this, you're not normally privy to the pretty looks that cross his face; normally you don't like to be front-to-back with him, unable to watch him.

But like this—God.

"I was behind on today's quota, y'know," you coo, nudging the head of your cock against Baizhu's drooling cunt. He whimpers, soft, trying desperately to buck down into the pressure but is forced to stay still, stay hovering above you, by the grip you have on his rather frail hips.

"What happened to all that confidence earlier?

"All because of this needy lil' cunt—" continuing, you pause for a moment to lick at the thin skin of his throat. The angle is admittedly odd, but he shivers beneath you all the same.

He shies away from his own gaze, reflected back on him in the mirror—to his wide, golden eyes; to the snake-like pupils widened to almost, nearly swallow them up. You sigh, watching the way his eyes refuse to rake over the beautiful sight you greedily take in.

"Look at yourself, sweetheart," you murmur.

He shakes his head, and you click your tongue. "But you're so pretty," you continue. "I'm only gonna let you have my cock if you watch yourself."

At that, he brings his gaze back to yourself. He stares directly into his own eyes—you know, that he's not actually looking. You cut him some slack, though. This isn't easy, for him.

You kiss the side of his neck again, a soft thing, and turn your face to the mirror. With the gentle grip you have on his hips, you rub him against your cock.

"Good boy," you coo, your cockhead tugging against his sloppy hole. "C'mon, baby. Sit on my cock, and watch yourself take it."

Like a moth drawn to the light, his pretty, pretty eyes fall to the swell of his own cock, to the way your cock catches and sinks in deep to his cunt.

"You take me so perfectly," you groan, puffing hot air against his skin. Now, with him sat squarely on your lap, you can pull one of your hands away from his hip to spread his folds, to finger at his cock.

He arches against you, pressing into your fingers and grinding on your cock in tight circles. "Please," he cries, and you answer only with a heady sigh, another drag of your cock inside him. Disobedient, he tries to close his eyes against the onslaught of pleasure; but, alas, you release the saccharine friction of your fingers to cup his jaw, to squeeze his cheeks lightly and force him to watch himself.

Instead of reprimanding him, though, you kiss his cheek and bring your fingers back down to quickly rub at his cock, giving him only the soft command to, "Watch yourself cum."

Baizhu's chest heaves, and then he's melting like butter into your arms. He grinds harshly—harsher than you would have expected, surely—against you before he's taken by orgasm.

"Go on, good boy, so good for me," you mumble, pressing into him continuously to bring yourself over your own precipe; but then his eyes flutter shut, and you can't even reprimand him for it as his cunt spasms, an erratic clench and release, before he fucking squirts.

Small splatters of cum fall to the mirror, and, truly, it's as amazing a feat as it is an arousing one. Being able to see the way he tremors in your lap, watching the way he squirts right onto his own reflection—it all sends you tumbling over your own edge.

You moan into his throat as your own orgasm forces you to close your eyes—to instead focus on the clench of his cock, of the breathlessness of his voice and moans—, Baizhu's body warm and soft against you.

You fill him easily, readily, his body accepting all you have to give. "Greedy, greedy," you mumble, your cum-wet fingers dragging away from his mons and to his hip. He only chuckles, breathless.

Quiet minutes later—the silence filled only with both of your harsh breathing—, you gently lift Baizhu from your cock. He mewls softly, and both of your eyes watch as your softened cock pulls out, a mess of both thick and thin cum—yours and his—spilling onto your lap.

Ah. It seems the mirror isn't the only thing soaked, after all this.

Kaeya's thighs tense and un-tense, small, rhythmic motions that make him shiver in your arms.

"Little dove," you murmur, leaning over his prone body. "Look at your pretty face." You've got him cornered, your body blanketing him and trapping him between your arms and the bathroom counter-top.

He nods, meets his own eyes. He obeys easily, but his fingers curl into your forearms. "You gonna fuck me, or what?" he asks.

With a hum, you bring one hand down—his own hand falls aside, because for all the brat he acts as, he's quick to obide by your rules—and brush against his inner thighs, wet with his slick. "I dunno," you say. "You've already got yourself covered, hm?"

Rather pitifully, he softly moans and shakes his head. "I didn't cum." Kaeya leans forward, laying himself across the counter-top. The motion forces his ass to press back into you. "I wanted to wait—for you," he adds, sweet.

He's got you wrapped around his finger, and he knows it. Regardless, though, you huff and laugh and follow him down, taking hold of his hips as you kiss at his nape.

"I'm not very convinced," you murmur again, smooth as butter, as your fingers dip into his soaked, loose cunt. "You're dripping."

"That proves nothing!" he groans, mumbles, complains—indignancy falling from his parted, bitten-up lips. He tries desperately to grind back into your, to press into the warmth of your cock, but your tight grip on his hips prevents him from any real purchase, any true friction.

"It proves everything, babe." You chuckle, not unkindly, but you bely your own words by beginning to grind your naked cock against his cunt. He can't move, held by you as he is, but he moans softly at your ministrations.

Soon enough, he starts to beg for your cock. Yet still, he adamantly denies that he ever came, earlier, and you're inclined to believe him; it's hard not to, with the saccharine way his cunt spasms around you when you sink in to the hilt.

He didn't cum, earlier—that's why he's so close, so soon.

With the way his soft cunt clenches at your cock, with how easily he starts to mewl and twitch and beg, quiet little punched-out sounds spinning your head. "I'm sorry, dove," you say, licking at his warm skin in tender apology. "You've been so good for me, haven't 'cha? Not cummin' at all, all day. Let me make you feel good now, okay?"

He nods, whimpering, "Please," and then you go and grind, deep and just as he likes it. Each grind, each thrust, sends your cockhead nudging at his g-spot, and Kaeya can't hold back any of his pleasured sounds—nor the way his eye wells up with tears.

With a tender touch, you release the hold you have on his hip to reach for his face. Never ceasing your thrusts, you tug away his eye-patch; the fabric is discarded to the side, no longer a barrier to block his tears.

"So pretty," you murmur, cupping his supple chest with the same hand as you use the hand still on his hip to tug him into you, into each thrust.

However, one particular thrust—one that makes his thighs spasm, his cunt dribble down to your balls—has Kaeya bowing forward, head dropping to the counter-top as he moans.

You tsk, bringing your hand back up to cup at his jaw, to gently hold his cheeks and force his gaze back to the vanity. "Look at yourself, Kae," you murmur, meeting his gaze through your reflections. "Watch yourself cum all over my cock."

His gaze flitters across the mirror: it lands, first, on the rouge that paints his cheeks, and he traces the flush until he's brought to his own chest, heaving with each breath and tremoring with his whining moans.

After that, his orgasm comes quick. His head falls forward again, but this time you let him; after all, it's hard to reprimand the man when you can feel his cunt clench in orgasm, and especially-so when hot slick splashes onto your thighs.

"Oh—!" he cries out, shivering erratically. The blush extends to his nape, to where you bury your face as you cum, filling him with deep strokes.

"You were so good, little dove." Small praises and sweet nothings spill forth, easy as anything, as you keep your softened cock snug inside him to let him come down from his high.

You pull your head from his nape when he begins to lift his head, and you breathlessly smile at him through your reflections. The tears in his eyes have spilled over, and you reach to thumb at them as Kaeya grins back.

"Good?" you ask.

He says, simply, "So good."

i fucking love creampies. i hope that these ideas were to your liking, anon !!

8 FEB. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .

#ㅤ✦【 ASKS 】#hoo boy . . .#pretend changsheng is simply in another room .#sub genshin #genshin smut #genshin x reader #sub kaeya #kaeya x reader #sub baizhu #baizhu x reader #ftm smut #trans smut #top male reader #male reader #w(ﾟДﾟ)w

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simphornies · 3 months

Note

Could I have it's fine if not

A vox x reader where shes his secretary?

A/N: Your wish is my command, <3 This was fun to write. I definitely headcanon Vox as someone that would fluster easily because he's just constantly around the Vees so being around somebody else that he isn't trying to hypnotize or boss around is new territory for him. Enjoy a flustered Vox. Definitely let me know if you'd like a part 2. I love subjecting him to this in my stories.

Word count: 2.9k words (2,948)

Breathtaking [ Vox x Secretary!Reader ]

The moment Vox saw you standing in front of him in his office, he immediately took notice of your curves. The way your uniform hugged every inch of you nicely. He didn't want to admit that you are Velvette's top model. Not that random bitch Valentino tore up in his fit of rage.

Your intelligence. Your charisma. Your hunger for power. He watched you ever since you demanded to work in his company. He took note of every quirk you have, replaying everything you've done throughout the day just in case he missed something.

When he saw that you were getting approached by Valentino, something boiled inside of him. He didn't want him to have your soul and body. Hell. Your body. He wanted you all to himself. No contracts. No deals. But there's one problem. He has no idea how to approach you. Like at all.

"C'mon darling~" Valentino plays with your hair, "I promise I can make you a star. Imagine it, you and Angel Dust. Side by side. You'll make so much money you won't even know what to do with it!" He breathes out his red smoke, surrounding you both. You could only see his eyes glowing behind it. "Don't run away, babe. Make a deal with me." He grins as his voice echoes around you.

You were about to try and fight for your life against an overlord until the smoke clears out with a zap. You feel the electricity crackling in the air. An arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into them. It was Vox.

"Valentino!" He smiles, "I see you've met my new personal assistant." Val scoffs, a little upset that he got first pick. You weren't entirely aware that you got boosted up to being an assistant but hey. You'd rather that than be a pornstar.

"You never told me this little princesa's your assistant. When did that start?" He whined.

"It started now. I told you I've been watching one of our..." He chuckles, trying to find the right words as to not expose him basically watching you, "...newest recruits."

Valentino almost chokes on his smoke, offended at the lie he just spat out. "Well I need that gorgeous body on set." He lifts up your chin with a finger, taunting you.

Vox moves you behind him before putting his arm around Val, his voice distorting a bit, "Val Val Val..." He chuckled, "You can have any other woman we can reach." They start walking a little bit out of ear shot for you. "I want this one. Got it?" He flashed his hyponitizing eye into his unaffected fellow overlord.

Valentino rolled his eyes and raises his hands up in defeat, "Fine. Fine. Take her." He scoffs, "But as soon as she's gone from your hands. She'll be mine." He chuckled.

"Fucking asshole." You hissed under your breath, secretly hoping he didn't hear it because you're kinda scared of him.

"Well, well. Nice to finally meet you." Vox pivots on his heel to face you, "I'm sure you've heard of me, HA! Who hasn't? The name's Vox." He extends his hand out to you, "And you, my dear, are?"

You take his hand to shake it, "I'm Y/N. I've been watching your work ever since I fell into hell and I've been doing my absolute best to finally get a chance to speak with you! I have so much to say and every time I try to get a meeting set up and-" You rambled before getting cut off by Vox pulling you closer to him as he grinned in delight. "My my. You have a lot to say there, doll. Why don't we go into my office so we can have a real meeting."

You get a bit flustered with your blabbering. "Ah. Yes. Apologies. I was just-" You take a deep breath, "Thank you. For saving me back there."

Vox chuckles a bit and teleports the two of you into his office, leaning into his folded hands. You felt the static all over your skin, your hair floating a bit in certain parts. He walks around his desk and plops down on his chair. You fix yourself up and sit across from him.

"So, Y/N, what were you saying earlier?"

"I want to be yours." You blurt out. Vox blinks, his smile faltered a bit.

"Excuse me?"

"I MEAN-" You clear your throat, "I want to be your assistant. I want to work for you. Under you. I am not afraid to get my hands dirty if it means you rise up in strength as the overlord of this city." If there was anything you can do right, it's killing. And blurting out the wrong things.

Vox chuckled in amusement, "Alright dollface, let's see what you can do." He grins, holding his hand out for you to shake. You shake it with eager delight. ------------------ It's been almost a year since you've begun your work as Vox's personal assistant and it's safe to say that his admiration for you grew over time. You were now next to him at all times. Even though you were his assistant, he was at you beck and call. You honestly didn't expect this behavior out of the powerful demon, but you weren't entirely opposed to it.

"Y/N. Pull up the statistics for the lowest earners this month." Vox states, stress oozing out of his words.

"Yes sir." You nod, directly transporting what he had asked for into the screen in front of him.

"I told you to call me Vox." He groans before cracking his neck, flicking through the screen to note down the employees that haven't met anywhere near the required quota. You take note his stiffness, specifically in his left shoulder. 'He must be working overnight again.' You thought to yourself.

You walk up behind him, gently massaging his shoulders. He flinches slightly from the sudden physical contact. "Wh-what are you doing?" He glitched a bit, hoping you didn't catch that.

"You stayed up overnight again, didn't you?" You sigh, "Sir, you need to take better care of yourself. You may be a powerful overlord but your wits will lose its touch if you don't get the proper rest you need." You work your fingers to massage the knot out of his shoulders as he slowly melted into you touch.

He groans a bit in pleasure, "I-" He started to protest but cut him off before deciding not too. "Whatever. Work your magic. You're good at that with me." He leans further back into his seat as he shuts his eyes, giving into your massage, "And call me Vox!"

You smile, looking down at him, "If you insist," You lean down, whispering into the side of his head, presumably where his ears would be, "Vox."

He was lost in your massage before the sound of his name slips out of your lips, causing his eyes to dart open. "You said my na-" He froze as soon as he turned to face you. Your face was so close to his screen. His face lit up as he slowly starting to buffer.

You grinned at his flustered state, "Sorry. Too close?" You pull yourself back and finally got that knot out of his shoulder. "How come you only have that stubborn knot on your left side?" You thought it strange that it was only on the left. You moved your hands off of the frozen overlord in front of you before shifting over to where he was facing, lightly tapping on his screen.

The taps got him out of his buffered state. He was flustered with you catching him so off guard like that. "No." He coughed, "Just caught me off guard is all." He brings back his signature grin as he looked up at you. "Now what was that question again? Something about a side?"

You roll your eyes, "Your shoulder. The knot I got out was only on the left side. What in the seven rings could you be doing with just that side of you? You arm wrestle Velvette or something?" You state, "You know, I did try that once. She beat me with such ease I never dared to try it again. Valentino just kept trying to lick my arm."

You continued to ramble as he sat and realized why. You haven't left his mind, or his screens, for the last couple of months. He couldn't tell you he's been busy jacking it off to the thought of you sharing his bed with him every night. He couldn't tell you that he wished you were there every time he woke up.

"Ahhh. Yeah! Yeah. Such a bitch to beat." He laughs nervously before quickly getting up, "Well enough of that. Thank you, doll, for the massage. Now, it's almost been a year since you've been by my side and I believe I owe you a treat." He smiled brightly, taking your hand in his, "How about we both the rest of the day off? Let me treat you to a nice restaurant as a...thanks. For your hard work."

Your fingers tapped against the back of his hand, "So...like a date?"

And he glitches again, "No! I mean-pff-what. Nahhhh. That's not-" He stutters, "No! No. I would never-"

His instant denial made your head, and heart, drop a bit in disappointment. You've grown to like him, more than just a close friend and ally. It seems that he took notice of your disappointment as he stopped his ranting to lift your chin up with his free hand.

"Look, just. Get ready. Look pretty! Get Velvette to help you with an outfit if need be. Tell her I sent you. And meet me outside in an hour." He reassures you, "I have quite the surprise for you, Y/N. You know I never disappoint."

"Okay, Vox." You manage a smile, holding his hand tighter. "I'll see you in an hour." You walk towards the door and head straight to Velvette.

Vox puts on his best suit and bowtie. Not allowing a single piece of garment out of place. He waited by the entrance of his building a little bit earlier than the discussed time, eagerly waiting your arrival. Before he knew it he was swamped with reporters, bombarding him with questions regarding the change in the extermination date. He easily answers the questions with his idea of "VoxTek Angelic Security" or so he calls it. He totally just pulled that one out of his ass. He hypnotized the crowd to keep them at bay. As soon as he did, you exit the nearest elevator.

He turned at the sound of heels clacking behind him. You wore a beautiful black dress with red accents that wrapped around your body nicely, hugging your every curve. The drop of your dress went a little bit too low for your liking, straight down from your chest to under your bust, but Velvette insisted that the fashion tape she put on it will prevent any accidental spillage. A slit that revealed the red and blue garter you wore on your thigh that resembled cables. Your hair was curled, half up and half down, falling nicely on your shoulders. On your ears were jewelry that matched the antennas on his signature hat.

The sight of you took all the air out of him, you were stunning in his eyes. "My..." He mumbled to himself as he walks towards you. "You look..."

"Silly, right? I told Velvette she didn't have to go all out. That I was just going out for a meeting with you to celebrate our first year working together." You sigh, looking up at him with a worried look, "If you don't like it, I can quickly change."

Vox couldn't help but snake his hand around your waist, "You look stunning." He grinned, "I can't wait to walk into the finest restaurant in Pentagram City with you by my side." He led you out into the limo waiting, "You're going to break necks with how fast they're going to turn at the sight of you, Y/N."

You blush a bit at his flattery, the makeup you wore barely hiding it. He held the door open for you. You thanked him as you sat inside.

The whole ride there was a test of self-control for Vox. He wanted to hold you in his arms. His heart was pounding loudly in his chest, so much so that he swears you could hear it at this point.

You peek out the windows next to Vox. You thought the lights were beautiful, nothing like what they have on Earth. You were captivated by the lights and he took quick notice of you shifting. You scoot closer to him, trying to get a closer look out the window on his side. "The lights are wonderful here, Vox." You smile, taking in the sights.

You place a hand on his thigh, causing him to blush intensely, leaning over him. "If I were to ask you of anything, I'd love to have neon lights in my room." You look up at him, "If you permit it."

He gave himself a mental pat on the back with how quickly he composed himself. Vox places a hand around your waist, "I will give you anything in my power at your asking." He hypes himself up to finally ask you out to be more than just his secretary. More than just his friend. "If you permit, will you consider this as my first attempt in courting you, dear?"

Your face quickly turned red at the sudden turn on events. You lean back, taking your hand off of his thigh. You attempted to back up but his firm grip on your waist stops you, if anything, he pulls you close to his chest. You blinked at him in disbelief, "I-Of course. I shall. I'm honored at to have your attention."

"Love, you've caught my attention since you arrived in hell." He confessed. Before he could continue, the ride slows to a stop as you both arrive at your destination. "Now, shall we?"

You step out of the limo, hand in Vox's as he assists you, careful to not allow you to trip. "I've gotten us our own private dining room here. Somewhere we can speak freely without anybody listening in on our conversation." He leads you into the restaurant, his words earlier still replaying in your head. 'Is this really a date? A date with Vox?' You thought to yourself.

He pulls out the chair for you before seating himself. He sits across from you, propping up his head on the table with his hand. He chugs the bottle of rum on your table to ease his nerves. A couple gulps in, he was ready to talk. "May I confess something to you, Y/N?" He smiles.

"Yes. Of course. Anything, Vox."

"You drive me crazy." He starts, "You're double drop dead gorgeous. If anything is an honor, it's to have you here in hell as my date. These last few months have been my equivalent of heaven."

You fluster at his words, turning red at the compliments. "Y/N, if I may be so bold. I have fallen for you. You're in my mind, always. Your gaze recharges me as much as it short circuits my system."

He gets up to move his chair right next to you, "My dear, I know I just said for you to consider this as me courting you." He holds your hand in his, "But if I'm going to be honest, I don't think I'd be able to handle keeping my hands off of you for tonight. You're absolutely breathtaking."

In response, you finish off what was left in the bottle he drank out off to ease your nerves. The alcohol flushed your face more than it already was from his confession. "Vox. May I be so bold as to speak my truth in return?"

He gulps down his nerves, a bit on edge. "Yes. You know you're always allowed to speak your mind around me."

"Pardon me, then."

"Pardon you for wh-"

You throw yourself on him, kissing him with passion. His hands instinctively wrap around your waist, closing the gap in between your bodies. You shift to sit on his lap, lacking the shame a normal person, probably not in hell, would have in a high rated restaurant. You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning into him. You feel his tongue enter your mouth, taking control of yours. He relished your taste. What felt like hours in each others' hold, you finally pull away for air. You gasp and pant, looking into his eyes.

"I've worked as hard as I did, climbed the ranks and dirtied my hands to catch your attention the moment I learned of you. I absolutely adore your mind. Working with you solidified that." You smile sweetly at him, enjoying the shock in his eyes. "I'd love for you to keep your hands on me all night." You winked, "Take that how you will."

You hop off of him, returning to your seat. You sigh contently, holding his hand in yours.

"3..." You count down. Sparks fly from the back of his head.

"2..." You turn to him, his screen was flashing all types of errors now.

"And 1."

His excitement, shock and happiness absolutely drained the city of its power. You giggle and rest your head on his shoulder, waiting for him and the city to properly boot back up. If he unfortunately forgets, you'll just repeat it again for him to remember.

#vox hazbin hotel #vox x reader #hazbin hotel #hellaverse #hazbin hotel vees #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel velvette

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sleekswosobession · 4 months

Text

you don’t have to be perfect

barça fem x teen!reader, lucy bronze x teen!reader

request: here

A/N: also i would just like to say, if anyone has any feedback for my writing it’s greatly appreciated cuz i’m not the best writer ik that but i want to improve.

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

It was apart of the contract I first signed with Barcelona that I continue my studies and finish school. Not ideal, but I get by with around 80% and sitting on a B for most my classes. What I didn’t factor in was the amount of stress I would have on top of the League and UWCL games when exams and assignments from 6 different classes were coming up. That’s hard on a 17 year old.

I felt myself start to drift away from everyone in the 2 weeks before mayhem. First it was denying to go out with the younger girls like Salma and Vicky, both of whom understood. Vicky being the same age as me and Salma only 2 years older than us. Then as expectations rose, classes became longer and filled extra information. All the time I wasn't on the pitch, I was studying. Or sleeping. (we dont talk about how even thats being cut down to maximum 5 hours a night).

Living with Lucy meant that she was bound to catch on to what was happening. It was inevitable. She took me under her wing when I first arrived along with some of the older girls and since I don’t speak Spanish natively, I was told to go with Lucy who was told to keep an eye on me. It’s nice, when you don’t want her to worry about how you’re ignoring everyone and have bags under your eyes whenever she sees you. She really does try her hardest to get me to do anything that’s not over analysing and over-studying the numerous topics, but no matter how much it pains me. I always turn her down.

After another night of studying until 2am, there’s an early morning training session and I know I’ve only gotten 4 hours of sleep. If I told the medical staff I’m sure they’d pale.

I’m aware that I probably look like death walking, but it doesn’t bother me. If I pass with above average grades, I’m happy and I know my actual parents will be too. I ignore the concerned looks that Irene and Alexia give Lucy, and get changed ready for the training session.

It’s gruelling, the lack of sleep from the past 2 weeks has finally started to catch up. When I least needed it to. Maybe I am working too hard. It’s too late for that though. I know I’m being watched by the captains, acting for a little bit longer won’t do much harm. Can it?

When the third water break rolls around, I sit on the floor and flop onto my back, closing my eyes. Too tired in the moment to do anything other than breathe. The sunshine above me dulls as Lucy and Alexia stare down at me. When I open my eyes. My captain has a raised brow, while my roommate has her arms crossed.

“Y/N, get up please. Now.” It’s Lucy who speaks first. I don’t give in. What’s their problem?

“No. I am fine where I am thank you very much.” I bite back. Lucy looks like she’s trying to hold herself together and Alexia looks furious. Unconsciously, I sink into myself hoping the ground could swallow me up.

“Nena, we won’t ask again.” The spaniard says, her voice low as she sticks out her hand.

I reluctantly take it, pulling myself up and staring at the two in front of me.

“Come.” Alexia says blankly, leaving no room for argument before walking toward the main building. I sigh, doing as she says or I know I won’t hear the end of it. Lucy trails just behind me, her jaw set and making sure I don’t run away.

When inside I’m placed on a couch, wishing and praying to any extra-terrestrial being that I can leave this confrontation. What is it even about? Why am I here? I’ve done nothing wrong.

“So, we noticed you’ve been pushing people out. You also look dead.” Classic Alexia, straight to the point.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I look away.

“Really? Because when I go to bed, which is around midnight and sometimes 1 if I’m doing other work. Your light is always on. You better fess up now before we make you do extra laps, and clear all the equipment from training.” It’s Lucy this time, starring daggers into me. Still, I don’t let up.

“Maybe I left the light on.” I shrug. “And why do we have to do this right now? I have 2 exams tomorrow. So, if I may. Let’s finish training so I can get to study and do other things.”

“This is exactly what I’m talking about Y/N. You’re deflecting absolutely everything we say. You’re not taking the information in. I get you’re stressed but that doesn’t mean you isolate yourself.” She pauses, sighing deeply. “We are going home right now. You will not touch your school work, this has gone on for long enough. I know Alexia agrees with me.”

“Before you argue, just think. Is this really the best way I could’ve prepared? Yes nail in, do the study for good results. But also remember to utilise the support system you have, the team, the coaches, take a break.” By the end of the rant I feel tears well in my eyes. I feel someone hug me and I can tell who it is by the obscurely large hands.

“Nena, go home with Lucy. Get some rest, and not only will you feel better but it gives your brain a break. When the week is over we can talk more but for now go.” The Catalan smiles warmly. I nod my head saying thanks before walking with Lucy to the car.

“Do you feel alright? You do look very pale.” She places her hands against my face and frowns. “No temperature. I’ll get some food into you and we’ll have a rest day. Just us.” I nod slowly staring out of the window as my mind races.

When we get to the apartment, no conversation is made and I immediately go and take a shower. It’s there that I cry and let all my frustrations out, the stress finally taking its toll on my mind.

When I’m dressed and ready I walk out to the smell of pancakes and Lucy sitting on the couch with Narla next to her. She hears me and turns her head around, eyebrows furrowing at the state I’m in.

She pats the open spot next to her which isn’t taken by the Westie and hands me a plate, which I accept gratefully.

It’s a comfortable silence, but I know she’s waiting for me to say anything. And this time, I do.

“I’m sorry Luce.” My voice is quiet and more high pitched compared to what it normally sounds like.

She smiles lightly.

“Hey, these things happen. You’re smart, just as Alexia said give your mind a rest and you’ll do better. Myself, Keira, the rest of the team only want the best for you and your well-being. Let’s not talk about this now, take it step by step. You’ll be ok.” I nod wiping freshly formed tears as she pulls me into a big hug, giving the rest of her pancake to Narla who eats it happily.

- - - - -

And ok it would be. I end up playing Fifa with Lucy the rest of the day before eventually falling asleep against her. As for the exams, I pass by with good grades and after everything’s done the team takes me out to a restaurant to celebrate. As much as I deny it, this team is the most important thing to me. I love and adore them all so much.

#woso #woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni #barca femeni #barca femeni x reader #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #alexia putellas

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shy-urban-hobbit · 8 months

Text

"I'm telling you Geralt, my songs are definitely working."

"A few contracts not skimping on payment isn't proof Jaskier. It's coincidence." Geralt replied as he stuffed his newly purchased supplies into Roach's saddlebag. After two years, he didn't need to look to know the bard was probably doing his uncanny impression of a landed trout. His default expression when he thought himself gravely offended.

"Oh hoho. So it's proof you want? Fine, I'll get you proof you old cynic - wait, I'm here calling you old, how old are you? I know Witchers age differently but it's all so contradictory. I remember one text claiming you aged backwards. Backwards!"

Geralt was blessedly distracted from Jaskier's tangent by a small tug on his cloak causing him to look behind him and then down.

A small, tear stained face with huge, liquid brown eyes looked up at him. The hand that wasn't clutching Geralt's cloak fisted in the skirt of a green dress as she shuffled her small, booted feet. Witcher and child stared at one another and even Jaskier had fallen silent.

"Are you the White Wolf?" She asked in a small voice.

Geralt could only nod in response, keeping an eye and both ears out for angry adults about to accuse him of kidnapping.

"I can't find my Papa." She sniffled, voice trembling and eyes welling up.

He felt himself slip into Witcher mode, trying to think what could be snatching people from a crowded town in the middle of the day, "What do you mean you can't find him, has he gone missing or-"

"Sweetheart, do you mean you got separated from your Papa in the market?" Jaskier gently interjected before Geralt could start fully interrogating her. The girl gave a small nod, turning her attention to the bard now kneeling in the dirt next to her.

Geralt felt his face heat up. Right. Just a lost child. That was also a possible (and the most logical) explanation.

"It's ok, we'll help you find him. Won't we Geralt?" Jaskier's tone of voice leaving no room for argument.

It turned out that Jaskier's idea of helping was having the girl perch on Geralt's shoulders and scan the top of the crowd for her father while he stood playing silly little dittys to keep her from crying again. Geralt holding onto her shins lightly and trying to ignore the mess being made on his cloak by muddy feet.

"I see him! Papa! Papa!"

Geralt tightened his grip slightly as her weight shifted with her frantic waving. Waiting until he was clearly making his way over to them before setting her gently back on the ground.

"Mika! Oh thank the God's." He turned his attention to the two men, his eyes widened as he took Geralt in fully.

"You're-"

"Hmmm."

Geralt tried to hide his surprise as the man grasped his hand in a firm if slightly clammy grip. "My thanks Wolf. I swear, if I went home without her my wife would make sure I shared the same fate as that Hag from the song of yours." He said, smiling awkwardly at his own attempt at humour, "Come on Mika, say goodbye. Oh, here."

He reached into his satchel and pulled something out. Geralt could smell warm sugar as he handed it over. "It's not much, but I don't know a single person who doesn't like cake. I could do with cutting down myself." He said, patting his own slight paunch before taking his daughters hand with a final "Thank you." Mika turning back to give a wave which they both returned before the two of them disappeared into the crowd.

"What?" Geralt asked as they left the town. The bard hadn't stopped grinning at him like the cat who'd got the canary.

"Nothing. It just, the timing and everything. Seems Destiny agreed with me for once. The songs are making a difference."

"Hmm." Geralt fought the urge to roll his eyes.

"Oh don't give me that." Jaskier said, swatting Geralt in the side as he unwrapped the package Mika's father had given them, "You saw as well as I did there were plenty of town guards around but she went to you. She wanted you. Oooh, maybe this would be good for a new song. The Gentle Wolf! Yes I- hey! "

"No cake for you until you stop." Geralt stated, popping a piece into his own mouth to hide his smile.

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #geraskier #jaskier x geralt #jaskier/geralt #witcher geralt #geralt #geralt of rivia #witcher jaskier #jaskier

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bobbile-blog · 1 month

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Okay so I've finally gotten to Jessicalter's Oprec and now feel qualified to talk about Come Catastrophes or Wakes of Vultures. holy shit. This went straight into my list of top Arknights events. Fantastic event, spoilers will be under the cut so I HIGHLY RECOMMEND reading the event first. It's really good and worth your while.

Anyway, what follows is a scattered mess of thoughts about this event and things that stuck out to me.

First off, plot stuff! I'll probably cover this when I do my next plotline recap post, but what I took away from the end is that Clip Cliff seems to want to make Blacksteel independent, or at least more self-determining than it is now. He seems to be gathering resources and assets like mobile city plates and investing in long-term infrastructure like merc training, so he definitely has a long game he's pushing for. I don't think we know enough go speculate about his goals, but we'll definitely be coming back here again. After all, Tila has an infection monitor in her art, which probably means she's going to be playable at some point in the future.

Next, having looked into this a little on my own, I was interested in some of the previous places Raythean has shown up. Specifically, the ones that stood out were the drones in the Kazimierz Major and arming Silverash's forces in Kjerag, which might be referring to the Tschäggättä. It's not just notable for their apparent level of technology, but also as a faint connecting thread between three separate capitalism plotlines. I don't know if that's going to be meaningful in the future, but I found it interesting enough that I thought I'd bring it up.

Now on to more narrative things. While I love Liskarm and Franka, I do think it was the right choice to give them less screen time in this event. They're both (for the most part) fully-realized characters who understand their own motivations and morals. This is above all else an event about Jessica learning to stand on her own as an adult, so it makes sense that they're more here to support her than they are to play their own roles in the story.

Speaking of said roles, I liked the event's commentary on cops. It pointed out an interesting distinction that I wouldn't really have ever thought of, that between mercenaries and cops. To start: cops exist to protect property, not people. The police exist to protect things and do not have an obligation to err on the side of people over things, and in fact are supposed to do the opposite. This event understands that, and that role os the core of how the bank treats the Blacksteel mercs. CV, however, raises an interesting point that mercenaries are bound by the letter of a contract and not the larger obligation to property cops are, so they can actually raise moral objections and point to their contracts, sort of a Lawful Evil/Lawful Neutral to cops' Neutral Evil. The independence of their position with respect to cops allows for more of an independent morality than you'd get in a cop story and I like that, I think it's a really smart direction to take your writing in.

On a (mostly) separate note, holy shit Arknights is really good at writing cowboy stories. Between this and chapter 9 (and I would argue An Obscure Wanderer), Arknights has repeatedly made it clear that they Do Not Fuck Around with their cowboy stories and I'm surprised I haven't heard more people talking about it. It kinda has everything:

- It takes place in a rural, working-class setting undergoing a larger imminent societal shift that can inform the larger narrative, and deals with a semi-mythologized past that is rapidly disappearing.

- It has a protagonist and an antagonist that serve as foils, both very heavily affected and defined by the (same) violence in their past that they've both had different reactions to. Our protagonist has come to terms with the violence as a tool to maintain order, while our antagonist has used it for personal gain and in some ways lost control of it.

- It's a story about community, and heavily emphasizes local and personal community over larger artificial corporate "community". That's my reading of the recurring motif of the cold btw, warmth represents the close, personal community Davistown used to have and the cold that now pervades it comes from how the bank has systematically dismantled that community.

- And, I'd argue most importantly, it understands the narrative power of a bullet. The Showdown at the end of a cowboy story is powerful because we've spent the entire runtime of our story with these characters, and they are now facing each other down with the intent to end one of their collective two stories. The entire weight of the narrative so far comes to rest on a single moment of tension. It's really hard to gather up the kind of narrative momentum you need to make that hit like it does in CV. For example, it requires a really light hand with actual action in the story, so that it really does feel like it's an even standoff between our protagonist and antagonist. On the other hand, though, you do actually have to establish the relative skill of both parties and actually sell the danger of the moment to the audience. It's really hard to toe the line between tension and actual action in a way that makes for a satisfying resolution, and CV does it extremely well.

Honestly, Arknights just seems really good at getting the vibes of American media right. This is something I noticed in DV and Lonetrail too, and I haven't really been able to put my finger on what it is about them, but the vibes are just really on-point. I want to write more about this at a later point once I actually figure out what it is that I'm feeling, but maybe it's the setting, maybe it's the cast, maybe it's the plot points, maybe it's something in between — it just seems to understand the spirit of period cowboy stories in a way that I can't describe. Good shit.

Finally, I wanna end this with where Jessica is now. The events of CV take place In between the events of Loneterail and Ideal City, so the current "now" of the story is a few months ahead. Jessica left for the frontier along with Woody, Helena, and Miles. They live together in a small new settlement, building the place from the ground up with Woody and Jessica acting as town sherrifs. At the point we're at now, rhe town is fairly well-established and Woody has temporarily left on other business, leaving Jessica the sole sherrif of their new settlement. However, she's risen to her new station, and is growing into a stronger person than she ever was before.

#arknights #come catastrophes or wakes of vultures #jessica the liberated #Arknights thoughts

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aceyogurt · 1 month

Text

Part-time romance

Pairing: Vox x GN reader

WC: 3k

A/n: PT ONE FINALLY UP WHOOOOOOOO…. This chapter is a lot of set up so no sexual tension yet sorry guys 😔, but I promise it’s still entertaining!

Nine years you’ve been in hell, and frankly compared to others, it wasn’t the worst. When you first fell you were smart enough to gain a good understanding of hell and its system before falling into the system of power and soul exchanges. While the idea of selling your soul to an overload didn’t sound optimal, neither did being weak and likely killed in an extermination. That's why you decided to work under the contract as your best option for the time being, ten years you worked under Velvet, one of the Vee’s, and in exchange, you had protection and decent pay. Luckily you were smart enough to go over the fine print and not be a slave to them but, still, they had lots of power over you. You didn't work close to them in the beginning though so it worked out.

In your life, before the fall you were a high-positioned manager for a company. So, you had the appropriate knowledge to climb up the ladder quickly, scoring you higher pay and closer relations to the Vees. Velvet was the one who took an interest in you after you were recently promoted and met her in a meeting. She loved your sense of fashion and you guys hit off well.

So, now here you are working almost top of the ladder and friends with your boss, an overlord of hell, life was pretty nice! Well other than your love life… but let’s be real who has one in hell? Anyways you and Velvet were doing your weekly recap at a new bar and she was ranting about how much of a bitch Val was being. “And then that pissbaby fucking ruined my shoot” She stared at you for a moment snapping her fingers “Oi you listening to me? What's up with you? You never do this, out of it.” you sigh putting your phone down. “Sorry, we recently got some new hires and they've been driving me insane, plus a date I had yesterday sucked.” “I get you girl dealing with co-workers drives me insane too… As for your love life, you don't need one trust me, you're too hot for any mid-low life, plus men suck.” you laugh at her comment which was likely a means to cheer you up before, going back to the topic of Valentino ruining Velvet's shoot.

“I told you before you gonna stress yourself out if you refuse to get some kind of assistance!” velvet protested at Vox. “Vel, I'll be fine, I'm capable of taking care of things myself. I don't understand why you are so prominent about this whole getting an assistant.” It takes everything in Velvet not to slap Vox right there as she looks at him like he's stupid, “I'm not saying you have to have someone do your work but, having someone to help you manage things would sure as hell help you not be so pissy all the time! I'm just trying to give you advice and it's like the wires in you start short-circuiting at the idea!” Vox sighs, pressing a hand across his screen before replying. “Look, as much as I appreciate you trying to help, I can handle it myself, getting an assistant will just create more work for me anyway. And I'd prefer to deal with the least amount of idiots possible since we have to deal with Val every day.” Velvet opens up her phone still talking to Vox, “You bloody right about the Piss Baby but, my point is what if we get you an assistant who isn't an idiot?” Vox raised an eyebrow “Got someone in mind” Velvet smiled already shooting a text to a certain someone, “of course”

Velvet 💕

Cancel wtvr you’re doing I need to talk to u

You

Am I in trouble

???

Ok geez I'm coming

“Took you long enough girl, I thought you weren't coming,” Velvet said leaning back in a nearby chair and scrolling on her phone, “well when you ask someone mid-workday to drop everything they're doing it takes them a minute to get somewhere,” you reply slightly annoyed as you sit down grabbing a bottle of water. “Yeah yeah, let's cut it to the point so I'm not wasting your precious time. Starting Tomorrow you'll be Vox’s assistant or whatever.” you choke on the water. “I'm sorry WHAT” asked a bit louder than necessary. Velvet rolls her eyes, placing her phone down, “Vox needs an assistant to help manage his shitstorm of a workload, and because he won't settle for just anyone I figured you'd be the perfect demon for the position. After all, you don't like your job now anyway so it's a win-win!” You slump down in your seat “How am I supposed to have my current job figured out in one day? It'll be a disaster and the whole team will fall apart!” Velvet shrugs “I wouldn't worry about it I'm sure a few demons can handle not having you around.” you decide not to argue with her and head back to your office.

The rest of the day you were stressed, trying to manage everything for your departure and making sure the team wouldn't fall apart. Getting home you almost immediately fell asleep not wanting to deal with anything else for the rest of the night.

You woke up two hours earlier than you normally would, whether that was because you wanted to look good or because your nerves were getting to you. Anyways you decided on an outfit and took around an hour to do your makeup and such. Because you had extra time you decided to get some coffee on your way to work, then you headed to the office of the overlord you now work for. You only prayed he wouldn’t be upset about your earliness.

You knocked on the doors of a room that Vox was supposedly in, well it was the room Velvet told you to go to, the doors opened and you began to walk across the bridge that led to a huge TV panel-like area. Each step you took you felt your anxiety build for no particular reason, the echo of your footsteps with each step you took. When you get to the area where you assumed he’d be though, all that was placed was an empty chair. You were going to head back, “you showed up much earlier than Velvet said you were going to arrive.” holy shit you were not expecting him to be right behind you, you got frightened hard “fuck!” you shout before realizing what you said. Your boss ends up laughing at your slip-up, “Oh did I scare you, that's hilarious' ' You bit the inside of your cheek before apologizing, which Vox didn't care much for. He sat at his desk and stared at the screens in front of him, you were waiting for him to speak up but, it seemed you were going to need to make the first move.

“So, Sir, what would you like me to do…?” Vox takes a sip of his coffee staring down at his phone before blankly looking at you, “What- did Velvet not tell you anything?” you look back at him a bit embarrassed, “Not really no…” For the next tenish minutes or so, Vox grudgingly explained to you what he expected of you, which ultimately wasn't a whole lot. You knew he had other assistants in the past to just help with managing his schedule but, when Velvet told you about this job you didn't think it'd be this… But hey, surely over time it'd get better right?

Two weeks later

Yeah, are things getting better? Hell no, the first week was fairly smooth and basic the next week though you and Vox began to talk more, and god was he egotistical. You guys were constantly getting into debates with one another which usually started with you gently criticizing Vox and his decision-making on affairs but, it'd quickly spiral into you guys changing topics into how much the other sucked. Yet despite that, he hadn't fired you yet… Or worse.

Vox was going to be coming in later than usual today because of this meeting he had scheduled with the other Vees so as any normal sinner would do, you just waited at Voxs desk, knowing he was going to come late and you sat in the chair he usually occupied. Was it a bad idea, sure but what the worst that could happen? You were working on some scheduling and afterward scrolled on your phone, and being plagued by boredom you fell asleep.

Vox was on his way after finishing a ‘productive’ meeting with the other Vees which ended up being Vox stopping Valentino from one of his meltdowns, over who knows what. Being drained he just wanted to recharge and figured he’d just have you take care of any events he would need to attend. While he was initially planning to get rid of you the first chance you get because he wasn’t exactly a fan of someone being this close to him for work. Having high expectations of others wasn’t exactly something Vox had, with

good reason, well somewhat, those reasons get overshadowed by his inflated ego.

Quickly though you did end up growing on Vox as an employee, he wasn’t exactly sure what it was about you but, after giving it some thought, he figured it was the fact you were a breath of fresh air instead of the sinners he normally employed. While your attitude he did find absurd sometimes, it was manageable for him since you never stepped too much out of place… You were still more professional than 90% of sinners and overlords he worked with, and you had some brains in your head which again, was something most in hell lacked (probably because the brains they had were fried after the copious amount of drugs they take.)

As Vox was heading towards his desk he heard… snoring? No that couldn’t be right, but as he poked his screen around in view of his chair there you were, fast asleep. Vox did find the fact you fell asleep in his chair funny but, at the same time, he needed to recharge and didn’t want to put up with anyone, including you right now. That being said, it was easy enough for Vox to conjure up another chair he could recharge in for the time being while you were sleeping. If it was any other circumstances Vox probably would’ve yelled at you for the audacity you had to sit and sleep in his chair, instead of working but, that was for another day. For now, Vox just wanted a break…

When you awoke you were greeted by a sight you never expected to see, Vox asleep..? While you were just realizing the situation in yourself still, you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself. Even though the situation itself wasn’t what you’d call funny, it was the idea that he fell asleep ironic because, from what you had seen and experienced, Vox was more of a workaholic so being asleep was unlike him.

You took a picture of this moment to show Velvet later when you meet up knowing she’d want to see it herself. The most bizarre thing to you was the fact when Vox was indeed asleep that he would have one of those DVD-type logos bounce around his screen, except this was of The Vee’s logo. While Vox was asleep you thought about how you should be productive but, you didn’t feel the urge to be doing such as of now. What you did feel an urge to do is snoop around your boss's desk and see what you could find. Honestly, you didn’t wish to find anything incriminating (not that it would matter) you were just interested in the overload behind closed doors, and who could blame you?

You started with poking around the general surface area which is when you made the realization you never truly allowed yourself to be familiar with your surroundings. It was spotless with not even a particle of dust occupying the space, but to the sides of the desk, three drawers stacked on one another worked as structural support. You had checked the right side first, and to your disappointment, there was nothing of interest to be found inside. Just some extra wires and such, what’d you expect? When opening the first drawer on the left though that disappointment quickly blossomed into curiosity.

A photo of the radio demon laid flat on it, while at initial glance it might seem ordinary the more you observed it, the more that curiosity inside you grew. To the right of the paper, it was very poorly torn, while most of the image was removed, there was a part that wasn’t removed that grew your curiosity once more, an edge of the TV screen seemed to occupy the space, an older model to be clear, this photo was old. You didn’t take Vox to be exactly the sentimental type, so why would he keep such a thing? You wanted to ask him to figure out this seemingly tragic history but, a hollow pit grew in the back of your stomach because, you knew you couldn’t ask about it, for one you wouldn’t know how he would react and that kind of questioning goes way beyond your relationship with the overlord, and secondly you knew for a fact Vox wouldn’t take kindly to snooping, especially if it was something personal like you suspected. You set the photo back into the drawer the way you found it and decided that it was about time you stopped procrastinating and working.

Vox had awoken a few hours after yourself, his screen slowly adjusted to the setting around him, his vision beginning to turn on. He was greeted with the sight of you, still in his chair, working at his desk. “I see you’ve made yourself comfortable” You didn't even bother seeming scared as you hummed, “Yeah, I figured since you were asleep I'd take advantage to work more efficiently.” Vox chucked “Effectively work, sure, whatever you say.” the dripping sarcasm caused you to let out a laugh of your own, “Yep, efficient working is important!~” he nodded in agreement amused by your attitude. While this kind of behavior would usually piss him off you didn't do it to try to come off better than him or cocky.

The rest of the workday went by quickly with you and Vox both having your affairs to deal with, so you only had a small chat here and there. Getting home you slip off your shoes and switch to some comfier clothing. As you were settling down a call appeared on your phone with Velvet’s contact showing up.

“Hey girl how's it going?” Velvet inquired in her usual tone. “Absolutely exhausted Vel, I just got home and can't wait to head to bed.” the conversation went on for a little while longer before you remembered the photo you took earlier today that you wanted to show Velvet. “Oh yeah I forgot to show you, look at this.” you share on your screen as the photo was earlier taken of Vox fast asleep, as you giggled at the photo once more Velvet was kind of shocked. It's not that she had never seen Vox asleep before, or looking as silly as he was at that moment but, the fact he so openly had done it while you were still present was shocking to her. Vox wasn't exactly the type of overlord that'd let anyone see him so normal. His whole persona was a perfect entity with no need for things other sinners might lust for. Yet he so openly broke that persona and you didn't even seem to notice! Velvet played along though figuring she’d inquire about the matter to Vox at a later date.

“Hah, yeah he always looks like that when he sleeps it's hilarious girl.” Velvet soon ended the call because she had ‘matters to attend to’ leaving you in the silence of your loneliness.

“Vox get in here now!” Vox unamused musters his best-interested tone making his way to her, “Whatever could be the problem, my dear?” Velvet then hummed, completely changing her tone with a more sinister undertone, “I just wanted to ask how work has been all” Vox's grin drops, “and since when have you been one for work talk?” Velvet shrugs, “Since when could I not check up on how a friend is doing Vox, after all, you haven’t told me how things have been with your new assistant.” Vox chuckles refilling his coffee mug.

“They’re better than I expected them to be, it’s nice to know some sinners still have any kind of intelligence.” praise wasn't something that was easily given by an overlord such as Vox so Velvet hearing him acknowledge you in a way that wasn't completely condescending made her even more invested. “Is there anything else you need to bug me with, or can I go?” Before she could ask or say anything else Vox was already on his way. (Workaholic bastard-)

While Vox was a bit interested in why Velvet was so curious about your guy's relationship, he also had better things to do than try to understand Velvet’s mind. Right as Vox had gotten you out of his head a notification from your number came through, it was only the changed schedule for tomorrow though. Why would it be anything else though you are just his assistant, nothing more. That being said, why didn’t Vox dislike you, I mean usually whenever Vox has an assistant of some kind they’re not nearly as involved with his work life as you were yet they managed to agitate him much faster than you had. He wrote it off though as you being recommended by Velvet made him have a more positive impression of you. Even if it was something else he didn't care he needed to deal with the Radio Demon being back in town.

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ladykailitha · 5 months

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Not All That Glitters Is Gold Part 2

Hello! Welcome to part two of my omegaverse. Just a heads up. This chapter is a bit dark. Trigger warning for sex trafficking. Not Steve. This was a way for me to show how well tuned Steve is too his clients.

Part 1

***

Steve packed his bag and stood up to see Robin waiting for him.

“You ready to go?” she asked, holding out her hand for his bag.

He handed it to her. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

They walked out to the waiting car. Once inside Robin asked, “Here’s your phone. The word for you being in danger is kitten. The word for spontaneous heat is catnip. And the word for bonding talk and contract buying is tower.”

Steve took the small flip phone. He had his own smart phone, but those weren’t allowed anywhere near clients. The last thing a Starcourt omega needed were crazed alphas stalking them. He handed her his. She slipped it into her purse.

“Just go a message from Dillon’s PA,” she said, looking at her phone, “he has just gone into pre-rut. Fever, irritability, and mood swings.”

Steve sighed. He liked to get there before that happened. “Did he start early?”

Robin sent off a message and moments later she growled at the response. “Apparently not. Apparently, he didn’t want you there for pre-rut and lied.”

He growled too. “Put him on the black list and tell his PA if he so much as twitches wrong during this, I’m leaving.”

She nodded. “I’ll also let management know. There’s a reason for omegas to be there during the pre-rut and that’s the safety of the omega. If he can’t follow a simple rule like that, what other rules is he going to break?”

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “You think I should pull out?”

Robin thought about it a moment. “It’s up to you. One lie isn’t a deal breaker per se. Lots of alphas do stupid shit the first time because they think they’re impressing you.”

Steve nodded. “There is something about this lie that makes me itch, though.”

“So pull out,” she said. “If you’re getting the skin crawlies, don’t go into something you can’t get out of.”

He thought about it all the rest of the trip, until they pulled up in front of the building.

“I think I’m going to go in anyway,” he murmured. “It could be as you said before about it just being fragile alpha ego or it could be a clusterfuck. But the only way to find out for sure is if I meet the client.”

Robin patted him on the shoulder. “You’ve got good instincts, Steve. I’ll back you up in whatever way you need.”

“Right,” Steve said, tapping his lip. “Stay with the car until I text you.”

She nodded again. “Roger that!”

Steve smiled at her and gave her hand a squeeze of reassurance. “Alphas are stupid. I’m glad I never have to deal with them outside of work.”

Robin laughed. “I know, right? But we’re here now. Go show that loggerhead who’s boss.”

Steve grabbed his bag and kissed her cheek. When he got out onto the pavement he looked up at the high rise penthouse. Dillon’s wasn’t the top suite, but he wasn’t near the bottom either.

The doorman stopped him at the door with a critical eye on what he was wearing. All of Steve’s clothes were designer, but comfortable and something he didn’t care about being ripped off him. The Victoria’s Secret PINK sweatshirt he’d cut into a croptop was paired with baggy sweatpants that fuck on the ass and power on one leg and bottom on the other.

Steve just cocked his head to the side. “Dillon Forrest is waiting for me, doll.”

The doorman was about bluster something about not letting in the trash when Dillon’s PA came bursting through the door.

“Oh thank god you’re here!” she said. “His pre-rut is progressing faster than usual!”

Steve rolled his eyes. “That’s why the omega needs to be there before any of that shit goes down.”

She sighed. “I know, I tried to tell him, but he said it was fine. He had a meeting this morning that he didn’t want to put off.”

Steve sighed. Ego. Especially alpha ego was the worst.

He looked back over at the doorman who was opening and closing his mouth like a guppy fish.

When Steve raised an eyebrow suddenly he was spewing apologies and stuttering excuses.

“Take me in,” Steve told the PA, completely ignoring the doorman.

She nodded and led him to penthouse. It was bright and sunny. And that was a problem. His client was on the sofa practically shaking from the pre-rut symptoms.

He found the remote to the shades and closed them, casting the room into dim light. Immediately the twitchy actor breathed out a sigh of relief.

The PA’s eyes narrowed at the drastic change in behavior.

“You act like this is your first rut,” Steve snapped, pulling out a bottle of water from his bag.

Dillon and his PA exchanged a glance and Steve’s eyes went wide.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Steve growled. “How long were you on suppressants?”

Dillon blushed, looking away then back up at the PA. “Since I presented when I was sixteen.”

“And you’re twenty-two now?”

Dillon nodded. Again he avoided looking at Steve and kept looking at the PA like she was in charge, not him.

Steve looked around and put his hands on his hips as he pursed his lips.

“This is a completely different situation then the one that was presented to the company,” Steve bit out. “I have to call my handler.”

He pulled out the phone and called Robin. He explained everything to her as he eyed Dillon and his PA. There was something off about the whole situation. The PA kept her eyes on Dillon, her fingers drumming on her arm, both arms crossed in front of her chest.

Steve listened to Robin, tilting his head further and further as he watched the two them.

“Kitten,” he said. “I think I left something in the car, I’ll be down to grab it okay?”

The PA frowned and stepped forward. “What did you forget?”

“It won’t take long,” Steve murmured, not bothering to answer her. There was a knock on the door and he went to answer it.

“Oh good you’re here,” he said with relief and then quickly closed the door behind them.

“Run!” he whispered to Robin.

She grabbed his hand and opened both elevators and got in one and told Steve to get in the other and go to the first floor and then down the stairs.

Steve nodded. Once in the elevator he called her.

“What’s going on?” Robin asked, panic rising her voice.

“I think Dillon was raised in sex trafficking ring,” he explained, “and you need to send someone to get him out of there now.”

Each omega had their own driver. Big, burly fellows for fending off large crowds of fans or very persistent alphas. And like extreme cases like this where they needed two pairs of hands, the handler and driver would work together to keep their omega safe.

Steve driver was a man named Xander Poulson and had been with Steve since the beginning. Robin had hand picked him and they relied on him for everything when Steve was on the job.

Robin opened her mouth to ask for particulars but closed it, messaging the driver to get Dillon out that suite instead. “All right, Xander will meet us at the car in five minutes.”

After that everything just happened so fast. Dillon sat listlessly between Robin and Steve as Xander sped away.

“How did you know he was in danger?” Robin asked as she rapid fire texted Starcourt management.

Steve ran his fingers through Dillon’s hair softly and the alpha sighed. “He was about to experience his first rut with an escort after having been on suppressants for six years.”

Robin looked down at the now almost delirious actor. “Shit. The only reason for an alpha to be on suppressants was if they were a danger to omegas.”

“Or if they being forced to have sex with other alphas,” Steve muttered darkly.

Dillon whimpered.

“Your flat is being set up for a first rut,” Robin said. “Management is okay with him being there because he’s too out of it to know where he is.”

Steve nodded. He wasn’t sure he could trust anything in the dossier considering most of what they now knew was a lie. “Shit Robin, I can’t even scent him! He smells duller than a beta.”

Robin frowned. “I’ll have a doctor sent over as well.”

They arrived back at Steve’s building and were quickly ushered in. The doctor saw to him first and administered medicine and tranquilizer to put him to sleep for a couple of hours to try and equalize the rut.

Dr Sam Owens, Robin, and manager, Jim Hopper were standing with Steve in his living room.

“Do you think you would have been harmed?” Hopper asked gruffly.

Steve shook his head. “I think they forced the rut because of what happened with his scent. I think they were hoping to jump start it so that he could be pimped out to omegas. But they couldn’t have it be any omega, they had to have someone who could gently see him through it.”

Dr Owens shook his head. “It wouldn’t have worked. He was too far gone. If you hadn’t acted as quickly as you did, there’s a good chance he would have destroyed his secondary gender when he came out the rut.”

Steve just shook his head.

“I just want to know how long they’ve been controlling him,” Robin hissed.

Hopper shook his head. “Dillon was a child actor, there is no telling how long they’ve had their claws in him.”

“Do we know anything about the ring he was being trafficked in?” Dr Owens asked Hopper.

“I’ve spoken to the FBI and INTERPOL, they have a pretty good idea which one it is,” Hopper growled. “The Upside Down, run by Henry Creel. And if Dillon willing to give them information they can probably take it down for good.”

“That’s a relief,” Robin said.

Hopper turned to Steve. “How did you know he was being trafficked?”

Steve blushed and rocked back on his heels. “No hot shot alpha actor was going to defer to their PA not unless it was a relation. Plus there was the fact she never introduced herself. Add to that all the lying about what it was and how little they both knew about ruts, it just really couldn’t be anything else.”

“You did good, Steve,” Hopper said. “You saved that man’s life and may have just taken down one of the biggest sex rings on the North American continent.”

“I was just doing what I do best,” Steve said, “take care of alphas in need. That’s what rut servicing is at it’s core, after all.”

“Well, I’m going to want to keep this hush hush,” Hopper said. “At least as far as the company is concerned. I don’t want to paint a target on your back.”

“I’ve already begun the scrubbing process regarding their files and contract with us,” Robin said. “The process should be done in two hours.”

“Good.”

“How long until he wakes up?” Steve asked Dr Owens.

Dr Owens looked at his watch. “In about an hour.”

Steve nodded. “That should give me plenty of time to get ready.”

He excused himself and went into the bedroom.

“That was not how wanted to spend my morning,” Hopper growled.

“I feel you, boss,” Robin agreed. “I wanted to pull out of the job when we were in the car, but Steve sensed something else was going on right away.”

Hopper nodded. “He isn’t our highest paid omega by a long shot, but he is the best.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Dr Owens said.

“Well, gentlemen,” Robin said, stowing away her laptop. “You really don’t want to be here when the fucking starts.”

Dr Owens and Hopper made faces and allowed themselves to be ushered out of Steve’s apartment.

Robin went through and made sure that the fridge was stocked to her specifications and then locked the door behind her.

***

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @lexirosewrites @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @yikes-a-bee @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @irregular-child @nburkhardt @apomaro-mellow @yellowdevilkitten @lingeringmirth @rememberthatiloveyou @demolvr @ellietheasexylibrarian @slowandsteddie @mangoinacan13

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rockstar eddie munson #alpha eddie munson #omegaverse #a/b/o verse #tw sex trafficking #omega steve harrington

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fanofstuff02 · 26 days

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HERE I AM! Here I am with a little writing of mine!

Before we get started, this AU belongs to @woah-why-i-am-here and they have pretty cool drawings about it. GO CHECK IT OUT!

Considering the show itself is 16+, this is aswell, know it then read this, also it has Valentino.

DEAR TUMBLR! PLEASE DONT TAKE THIS DOWN!

A little summary: Adam fell to hell, needed money, and Valentino was the only one hired him. He owned his soul, and it was too late when Adam realized what he agreed to work on. He is one of Valentino’s top whores now. And of course, Adam and Angel met, in fact, more than ‘met’. Their films sure sell a lot. They slowly become friends and Angel convinces Adam to come to the hotel. This is after these happened. Also not shipping Angel x Adam.

ENJOY! (Also since you love holydust @rius-cave , tagging you!)

“And cut!” Valentino said proudly, ending the scene. “One hour break and we’re here till 8!”

Adam panted as he tried to collect his mind. He slowly backed away from the fish demon gal, wore his robes back and got up to go to his dressing room. This was the third demon he was on top of that day, and sure enough she was not gonna be the last. Today was gonna suck. Val was planning to work on eight fucking movies, not to mention six of them were gay and two of them were with Angel. He was glad the one-hour break came.

“Addie~” He heard someone behind him and felt that certain ‘someone’ gripping his shoulders.

Valentino. Awesome. Just who he needed.

He attempted to not show the fear and hatred he felt to his face and mask. Too bad the fucking thing was programmed to show every emotion on his face, and sometimes they didn’t even needed to be on his face, him feeling them was enough. Angel had a -probably true- theory about it, he thought that it was ‘connected’ to his brain when he wore it. Adam was already regretting that he put the “I will only work with a mask” in his contract. He didn’t like the idea of showing his face on films, but this was much worse. He couldn’t fucking took it off till his shift ended!

“Yes, Val?” He asked, trying to avoid the movements he was doing to his chest. Yes, prick? he corrected himself in his brain.

“You were so, so good in the last one, babe” he chuckled.

“Thank you, Valentino.”

“Go ahead. Rest, baby.” He thought he was gonna leave him, but instead, he leaned in and kissed his cheek, completely disgusting the sinner. He didn’t flinch or resist though, he knew what’d happen if he did. “Oh, I can’t wait to see you and Angie on stage together.” he let out another one of his creepy chuckles and finally let the first man go. Adam almost runned to his dressing room, closed the door behind him and threw himself on the couch.

“Fuuck.” He groaned and tried to grab his wine bottle without getting up.

“Adam?” A familiar voice came from outside.

“Door isn’t locked!” He yelled.

“Hey, dickmaster.” A pink spider demon came inside and sat down beside him, tilted his head back and watched as the demon managed to grab the bottle and drank it without standing up, like his life depended on it.

“Y’know you can choke yourself doin’ that, right?”

“Meh, who the fuck cares.” He get up dazedly and looked inside the bottle with one of his eyes.

“I don’t recommend dying on work hours, Val punishes the ones who do.”

“Unholy shit, that actually happened?!” Adam asked, his pupil-les eyes went wide.

“I saw three accidents.” Angel shrugged. “Any left for me?”

“Sorry, I guess that bitch camera guy sneaked up here again and stole my stash.”

“It’s fine. Wanna eat your food? We’re gonna need energy.” Angel asked and took out two containers out of his bag. “I made lasagna yesterday.”

“Oh, you bet I do then.” He smirked and took his own. Angel knew the best ways to make it.

They chatted together until their break ended.

“Adam! Get your ass here or there will be consequences!” A little window appeared in Adam’s mask, almost like a pop-up ad. It was their costume designer. “And bring Angel with you!”

“Fine, fine! Ugh.” He groaned, swiped the page to make it dissapear and get up. “Who’s idea was putting this shit on this again?” He mumbled to himself. “Let’s go cocksucker, we have another job to do.”

HOW IS IT!?

By the way, Adam’s mask in this is practically based on his original mask, a Voxtech product just for Adam. Like Vox’s screen, it’s like a screen-face.

I’ll continue this

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin angel dust #hazbin adam #holydust #I worked so hard on this #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin valentino

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hellsburners · 11 months

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you’re my religion

summary: the cross on his neck does things to a person. pairing: matt murdock × male!reader word count: 954 warnings: 18+ warning, protected sex, gay sex, anal sex, blowjobs, top!matt, bottom!reader a/n: might be my last matt fic for a bit since i dont want to get burnt out just writing him but i do have stuff in the works for matt especially some mattfrank x m!reader and mattelektra x m!reader so check those out soon!!

masterlist | more matt murdock

Rain pours tonight in Hell’s Kitchen. You and your boyfriend are drenched in the rain huddling towards some shade. You were on a date and were on the way home, people in the streets running with briefcases on their heads or fumbling to open their umbrellas. Matt was giggling while running his hands through his wet hair. You giggled too, you were both on a high from the date. He took you to his favorite place in the city, a small Chinese restaurant that served amazing dumplings, and his favorite bar, Josie’s, to grab some beer and play billiards.

“You’re right, we should’ve taken a cab,” he laughed, that cheeky laugh that accentuated his dimples. “You could stay with me for a bit,” he pauses. “Until the rain stops - I mean.”

“Sure, I’d like that a lot actually, my socks are wet and it’s making me so uncomfortable,” you smiled. He takes your hand and laces your fingers together, his calloused hands meeting yours. You blush at the gesture, he whisks you to him as you walk towards his apartment.

This man, you were outside his door and his hands were cupped to your cheeks, his lips pressed on yours. His kiss becomes feverish, your arms wrapped around his waist as his left-hand rests on your neck. He was taller than you so your neck started to sore from looking up, you didn’t mind because this was making your cheeks burn so bad. He pins you to his door, not losing contact with your lips. He takes his keys from his back pocket and unlocks the door with a swift movement.

You fumble on your way in, pushing your shoes off and your wet socks. He removes his black coat and tosses it to the side, you pull your shirt off as he signals for the couch. You lay down while unbuttoning your trousers. He stands on top of you as he pulls his belt off with one hand. You help him unbutton his drenched white shirt. You both get all buttons open and he pulls his shirt off. Your eyes wander on his naked torso. You never noticed the necklace he wore, it was a thin black leather strap with a small golden cross. You pulled up to kiss him again, his tongue meeting yours. He starts to trail kisses on your neck, you shudder from the erotic pleasure. You lay back again on the couch as he starts to leave wet kisses on your torso, your nipples given more love than the rest. His fingers find the hem of your boxers and he pulls the garment down, your cock hard from all the kisses. He kisses the skin around your sex teasingly, you run your hands through his hair. He takes your legs and rests them on his broad shoulders as he takes you in his mouth, you moaning marveling at his back muscles contracting. He was unreal, a man carved by god, and he was pleasuring you.

“Fuck, Matt,” you moaned, and your tip was hitting the roof of his throat. You were almost pulling on his hair, Matt didn’t care about the slight stinging on his scalp, the pain only turned him on more. “Not yet, love, we’re not yet done here.”

He stands up to get some condoms and lube. You felt bare on his couch, well you were, but the lack of contact gave you a sense of shame. After a few seconds, he was back, a roll of condoms and a small bottle of lube in hand. He takes some lube to his two fingers to prepare you. It was cold at first, his thick fingers feeling your tight muscle, he went deeper until you moaned. He takes more lube to put on his erection. For the lack of a better word you found his dick so beautiful, it was thick, not so long, but a sizable amount, cut with a pink head, the base neatly trimmed. He bent down to insert his hardness and you both moaned from the contact, your arms found themselves wrapped around his neck.

Through the lights of nearby billboards, the gold cross on his neck shimmered dangling above you. There was something so sensual about the act. The way your bodies, glistened with sweat, would move towards each other in an act of lust. Moans, sounding like the hymn of angels in this small apartment. And the cross, there in front of you like in the middle of the church. You close your eyes in a bit of prayer. You whispered the lord’s name and some profanities, using his name in vain. Matt went back to continue to feast on your neck, the gold cross resting on your chest cold. His hand pumps your cock with the same rhythm as his. You could feel yourself coming to a climax.

He leaves your neck to sit up, your legs held at his side. You could see the way his abdomen moved to thrust his hips into you. His thrusts became erratic, and your cock was close to letting go. You quickly grabbed the cross from his neck, pulling him back to you as you kissed. The kiss is hot with wanton lust, almost sloppy. Moans stifled in your mouths.

And then you two, at the same time, let your pleasures erupt. He fills the condom while yours shoots into your abdomen. His thrusts stop while kissing you, the quick rising and falling of your chests slowing. He kisses your temples and collapses on your shoulder, his full body weight pressing into yours.

“Babe, you’re still inside me,” you catch your breath.

“Give me a few minutes,” he whispers, slowly drifting to sleep.

interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

#matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #daredevil smut #daredevil x reader #matt murdock x male reader #daredevil x male reader #matt murdock x male reader smut #daredevil x male reader smut

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tswaney17 · 4 days

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I Do Bad Things with You - Part 49

It's here!!! The final part of this massive fic. 😭 I can't believe we're finally at the end. I'm still in shock that I get to close the door on this fic that has taken up the last three years of my life. I have so many emotions running through me right now. 🥺

The epilogue will be posted during @elriel-month in addition to a little surprise I'm so excited to share with you. Stay tuned!! 💜💙💚

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Catch up here.

Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘

Trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault , language, NSFW

This part also features descriptions of birth and complications from it.

Word Count: 7,225

Elain had spent a good portion of the late morning getting ready for the baby shower scheduled for noon. At just over eight months pregnant, they were cutting close to the wire of the twins’ arrival.

She was beyond exhausted. Growing the babies was work enough, but she ached everywhere at this point. Her boobs, her hips, her ankles. Her back…that hurt the worst. She looked like she swallowed two extra large watermelons. Elain hadn’t seen her feet in two and half months and she was praying that her toenails looked well enough for sandals today.

On top of her aching body, she also slept like shit the night before, having woken up in the wee hours with Braxton Hicks contractions that seemed to never want to go away. They were getting obnoxious at this point.

Oh! And her boobs had already started leaking. Aside from the contractions, Elain also woke up to a soaked sleep shirt and an attitude that poor Azriel was desperately trying to keep calm. She felt bad that her irritation got directed at him, but he took her mood swings in stride, giving her the space when she needed it, and focusing on taking care of Kaden and getting him ready for the party.

Her husband knocked lightly before entering their bedroom, shutting the door behind him and locking it when he saw her standing there in an ugly pair of panties and a strapless bra—which she had no idea how it was going to hold up her tits, but here they were. “Hello, my love. How are you doing?” he asked, striding further into their room. He was already dressed in black slacks and a white button-down rolled up to his elbows. It was one of her favorite looks on him. Casual but classy and sexy as hell.

“I’m all right. Better than this morning,” which was true. In the time she took to get ready, she felt her irritation slowly dissipate. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

He gifted her a soft smile he reserved only for her and their children. “El, you’re carrying two babies. You’re allowed to let out your frustrations. I’m here to spar if you need it, you know that.”

She knew he meant spar as in letting her yell and shout and hiss words until she felt better while he just took it. Gods, he really was the perfect husband. Elain held out her coco butter lotion towards him. “Do you mind rubbing this on me and helping me dress?”

Azriel took the bottle from her outstretched hands, dropping a sweet kiss on her plump lips before squirting some into his scarred palms and gently rubbing it all over her swollen stomach. He knelt before her, dutifully getting every inch of her covered. “You are so beautiful, Elain,” he murmured, kissing her at the fullest part of her belly.

She snorted. “I am a beached whale who ate too much.”

“You are a gorgeous woman carrying life inside of her womb. That will always be beautiful, sweetheart.”

How he always knew what to say was beyond her, but she tugged him up off the ground to kiss him thoroughly. It should’ve annoyed her with how just a few sweeps of Azriel’s tongue had every concern and irritation simply melt away. He knew when to play that card and fuck did he play it well.

But even his tongue couldn’t stop the hiss of pain as another contraction wracked her body.

He immediately pulled back at the sound, eyes scanning her face. “Are you all right?” he asked, concern etched into the tone.

She breathed through the wave that tightened in her abdomen. “Braxton Hicks contractions,” she said as an explanation.

His brows shot into his hairline. “Do we need to go to the hospital?”

Elain reached up to cup his cheek in her palm, her thumb swiping over the stubble there. “No, it’s a normal thing this late in the pregnancy. I’ve had a few this morning starting before dawn. It’s why I was grouchy.”

Understanding lit his face and he carefully ran his hand down her stomach again. “Why didn’t you wake me this morning?”

She huffed a laugh. “Because I knew you’d go into full-birthing-dad-mode and neither one of us would’ve slept any longer.”

Azriel shot her an unamused glare. “You will be thanking me for that birthing-dad mode when you’re in labor and I have everything packed up within minutes.”

This time Elain laughed loud and joyfully. “Yes, you’re probably right.” She nodded to the dress on the bed. “Help me slip that on?”

He grabbed the fabric, bunching it in his large fists, and pulled it over her head. It was an off-the-shoulder, loose, pale pink cotton dress, decorated with roses. It looked vintage, gathering just under her bust, with oversized puffy sleeves that sat off her shoulders, over her biceps. Ruffles accentuated the bottom hem, emphasizing the vintage style. It was the perfect spring dress. When Elain first saw it at the store, she knew she had to buy it for the shower.

Azriel tugged her loose curls from the back of the dress, letting them brush against her spine. He placed a kiss on her bare shoulder before grabbing the rose-pendant necklace he bought to go with the dress and draping it around her delicate neck. “Perfect,” he murmured onto her skin, his smile pressing against her neck.

Elain sighed softly, reaching up to thread her fingers through his dark hair. “How am I still horny for you?”

He nipped at her throat, a rumble shaking his chest. “Because you know I can deliver what you need without even blinking.”

This time she laughed, letting his hands run across her body in possessive little touches.

Azriel brazenly cupped her sex through the dress, growling as she let out a mewling sound and began to writhe against those skilled fingers, searching for the friction she desperately craved. “Would you like to fuck my hand, love?” he murmured, mouth grazing her jaw.

Elain fell slack against him, letting his strength hold her up. “Az,” she breathed, eyes fluttering shut as he began to rub her in earnest. “Please.”

He nipped the curve of her ear, tugging the lobe between his teeth. “You beg so prettily, El.” Bunching up the dress in a fist, Azriel slid her panties aside, swiping his fingers over her soaked pussy. “Fuck, baby. You’re so wet for me. Always desperate for my touch.”

She gripped him, nails digging into his exposed forearms. “I need—I need,” she panted out, wiggling in his hold. “Please, Az.”

Giving her exactly what she wanted—needed—Azriel sunk his middle finger into her aching cunt, pumping once before adding a second digit. “Such a good girl,” he whispered, thrusting in and out of her. The heel of his palm grazed her clit sending bolts of pleasure up her spine.

Elain bit her lip, stifling the moan that threatened to burst from her. His fingers scraped along that special spot inside of her, building her up and up and up until she teetered on the edge of bliss.

Barely conscious of her surroundings, Elain caught the sound of the door handle jiggling, followed by a “Momma!”

Azriel clapped a hand over her mouth as he continued his machinations. “Momma’s getting dressed, Kaden. We’ll be out in a minute,” he called out, pressing his palm firmly on her clit and sending her spiraling into her orgasm.

Too far gone to care, she tumbled into sweet oblivion, coming hard on his fingers. Elain moaned, only quieted by the muffling against her husband’s scarred hand.

He worked her through her release, slowing his movements when she started to come down from her high. Az peppered her skin with sweet kisses, removing his fingers from her pussy and readjusting her panties back into place before letting the dress fall back down. “Better, my love?”

“I’m gonna have to change my underwear, but yes.” She twisted in his arms, catching him sucking his fingers clean. Elain brought his mouth down to hers, tongue licking the drop of her release dotting his bottom lip. “Thank you, husband.”

He smiled into their kiss, deepening it once more. “I’ll go check on Kaden while you finish up. We’ll head out when you’re done.”

Twenty minutes later, they were in the car on their way to Rhys and Feyre’s place. It was a gorgeous day full of sunshine, the air warm with the oncoming of summer. It was as if even the Mother wanted to grace her presence on that day with her radiance. They really couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day for a baby shower.

“Momma?” Kaden called from the back seat. “Where are we going?”

His speech had improved so much since they first brought him home that the therapist they hired had told them after the end of the school year, that he likely wouldn’t need to continue seeing a specialist to catch him up. He was reading and writing the way a five-year-old should be and was on track to pass kindergarten with flying colors.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Remember how we talked about going to Aunt Feyre and Uncle Rhys’s for the baby shower today.”

He seemed to think about that. “What’s a baby shower?”

Her lips quirked up at his curious mind. Thankfully, he hadn’t asked about where babies came from again. “It’s a party to celebrate the upcoming arrival of your brother and sister.” Her hand came to rest on her belly instinctively.

His face scrunched up. “Will I have to take a bath again?”

Azriel let out a snort, glancing at her. “It’s a fair question.”

She laughed. “No, sweetheart. Not that kind of shower. To shower with love. The party is just to celebrate the babies before they arrive.”

“Will there be cake?” he asked, excitement lighting up his face at the prospect of sweets.

“For my sister’s sake, there better be.” Elain’s late-stage pregnancy craving was anything sweet. Cookies, cakes, pastries, whatever she could get her hands on, she was eating it. Azriel was barely able to keep the pantry stocked with desserts for her to snack on.

Her husband chuckled. “If she doesn’t, we’ll stop by a bakery on our way home and get each of you a cake. How’s that sound?” he asked, grasping her hand and bringing it to his mouth to kiss her knuckles.

She grinned. “You spoil me.”

He looked at her then. “You deserve to be spoiled.”

They were fashionably late to their baby shower, and Elain completely blamed her husband’s morning sexual charade for the delay in their arrival. Not that she minded at all. She had another Braxton Hick contraction in the car, Azriel eying her with worry and once again asking if they should make a pitstop at the hospital just in case.

But that would’ve made them even more late and Elain knew it was unnecessary.

All of their friends and family were waiting for their arrival. And she hated being late.

“What am I going to do with you gone for six months, Elain?” Thesan teased, taking a sip of his beer.

She shot a devilish grin at the head nurse sitting on the couch across from her. “I’m sure Viv would love to pick up all the slack.”

Viviane squawked in outrage and pointed a menacing finger in her direction. “Don’t put your work on me while you’re enjoying your babymoon, Elain Archeron-Knight.”

The group laughed as she pushed herself up off the couch. Another contraction hit her and she winced, catching the attention of the sharp-eyed nurse. But before she could ask, Kaden came bounding up to her, tugging on the skirt of her dress.

“Momma, can I have a cake pop?” He looked up at her with those damn puppy eyes he knew she couldn’t resist.

Elain ran a hand through his hair. “Sure, sweetie. Only one. You don’t want to spoil your appetite for Uncle Cassian’s good barbeque.”

Said uncle was out in the backyard tending to the grill with her husband, Rhys, and the Moonbeam brothers because, apparently, that’s where men gathered. Aelin and Rowan had joined them, the former getting an eyebrow raise from Azriel at her company’s appearance.

She made her way to the kitchen, hoping to perhaps score one of those cake pops herself—she was the guest of honor, surely she could snag one too. Feyre, Nuala, and Cerridwen had been busy putting together the final touches for lunch and were just waiting for Cassian’s proteins to serve food.

But just as she reached the breakfast bar, a wave of excruciating pain washed over her. Catching herself on the counter, Elain gripped the side of her stomach, groaning loud enough that the other room went silent. And then she felt it. Liquid surged between her legs, puddling the floor beneath her.

No. No, it was too soon. They couldn’t be coming already.

Viviane rounded the corner from the living room as Feyre and the twins approached her.

Somebody breathed her name, but she couldn’t decipher who it was over the blood rushing in her ears.

More footsteps sounded as her friends and family came from the living room to see what was going on.

“Elain.” It was Feyre’s voice that broke through the fog of fear that had clouded her, but she was too numb to respond. Too nervous. “Somebody get Azriel!”

Her panic grew and her breathing turned shallow. It was too soon. She wasn’t ready, wasn’t prepared enough. The anxiety of giving birth hit her like a freight train.

She couldn’t do this.

She couldn’t.

~~~~~

Azriel took a swig of his beer, rolling his eyes at the cad comment Rhys made. His tanned skin warmed in the sunlight even with the sleeves of his button-down rolled up to his elbows. With a glance at the large window, he caught Elain rising from her spot on the couch, Kaden gripping her dress to speak with her.

Gods, that fucking dress. Elain looked like a maternal goddess in it, emphasizing her swollen belly, brimming with the life of his children. Az never realized he had a breeding kink until he and Elain got back together. His desire to fill her with his seed, to watch her grow with life had him hardening in his pants.

Now at eight months, she had reached the stage where little things irked the hell out of her. Honestly, her temper was cute as hell, but he tried to be considerate of her exhaustion and short-fuse, offering himself up to take the heat of her ire. It was only fair—he’s the one that got her pregnant.

It may have made him a primitive, alpha-douchebag, but fuck did he love to see her waddling around, pregnant and barefoot in their home. She was already such a wonderful mother to their boy, Kaden. Cassian had been right. He was so incredibly grateful for Elain’s maternal instinct.

“Something caught your eye, brother?” Cassian taunted, grinning. His brother knew exactly what he was looking at. Or whom.

He shot him a dry look that had Cash chuckling.

“If she wasn’t already pregnant, I’d say that look alone could’ve knocked her up,” he teased. “Who knew you had such a kink, Az.”

Azriel opened his mouth to retort, but the sliding glass door opening caught his attention.

Nuala peeked her head out, a worried look on her face that had his stomach tightening in knots. “Azriel! Get in here now!”

But he was already moving, dropping his drink on the table and running after her into the house, his brothers and friends hot on his heels. He froze in the entryway of the kitchen, taking in the scene for a split second before his eyes settled on Elain bent over the counter, a puddle of clear liquid beneath her.

His feet ate up the space between them in three long strides, her name falling from his lips as he cupped her face and forced her gaze on his. Azriel prided himself in knowing exactly what Elain was feeling, what she was thinking by just the look on her face. He read her better than he did himself. So, seeing the blatant apprehension and worry written as clearly as a tattoo on her forehead had his heart racing in his chest.

Her eyes were wet with the tears he could tell she was trying to hold back.

“Love,” he said quietly, unsure how to proceed at the moment.

She blinked like hearing him cleared a bit of the fog that had washed over her. “Azriel.” Her voice cracked.

He folded her into his arms, trying to soothe whatever worries were troubling her. “You’re okay, my love.”

Elain seemed to melt in his embrace, her tension slowly ebbing away the longer he held her. He gave her whatever time she needed, ignoring the audience they had around them, but it was long enough for another contraction to hit. She cried out, gripping his hand in hers and squeezing tight.

Viviane snapped into action at that. “Azriel, her contractions are about nine minutes apart now. She’s going to have at least two more by the time you reach the hospital.”

“No hospitals,” Elain growled.

That had him pulling back to look down at her. “El, the babies are coming—”

“No. Hospitals.” He could see the wavering in her face. “I—,” she paused, hesitating. “They’re not ready. It’s too early. Too soon. They can’t come out yet…” Her head fell until she was looking at the wetness still sitting on the floor. “I’m not ready,” Elain whispered so quietly, that he almost missed it.

Azriel knew that was nerves speaking. While Kaden made them parents, the idea of giving birth to the twins was the primary source of her fear. The books he read said that many expectant mothers experienced this type of anxiety right around the time they went into labor. If they were going to have any success in her having a smooth birth, Azriel needed to get her to calm down. He glanced at Cassian. “Can you get her a chair?”

His brother grabbed one from the dining room, setting it out for Az to carefully guide Elain into. He knelt in front of her, keeping her hands clasped firmly in his. “Elain, sweetheart,” her dark eyes latched onto his, needing to hear his reassurance. He kept his voice low, wishing they didn’t have to have this conversation in front of their friends and family.

Rhys seemed to sense that and began ushering people out of the room. “Let’s give the couple a few minutes.”

He shot his brother a grateful look before returning his attention to Elain. “Sweetheart, I know you’re scared. I know it’s earlier than we were expecting. But if there is one thing that I am certain of is that you can do this.” He squeezed her hands in comfort. “You are the strongest person I know. You’ve been through so much that once all is said and done, you’re going to look at me and tell me that this was the easy part. I promise you that if anyone can do this, it’s you. And I will be right by your side for every step, holding your hand, giving you ice chips, and bearing whatever you need me to bear to bring our children into the world.”

She sniffed, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re sure?”

“Without a doubt, Elain. You can do this.” He brought their joined hands up to his mouth, kissing her fingers and letting her absorb whatever confidence she needed. “So, what do you say? Are you ready to have our babies, love?”

Elain huffed a laugh, his words settling the nerves she had. “Yes, let’s go have our babies,” she breathed, her grin taking over her entire face, lasting all of thirty seconds before a look of panic took root once more. “Az, the birthing bag is still at the house.”

He let out an undignified snort. “Do you think after having that contraction in front of me this morning, I’d leave the house without having absolutely everything packed and ready to go? Come on, baby, you know me better than that. It’s all in the back of the car.”

She blinked in surprise. “The birthing bag and my pillow?”

“In the car,” he confirmed.

“Kaden’s overnight bag?”

“In the car.”

“The car seats for the twins?”

He scoffed. “You know I installed those weeks ago, try again.”

Her lips quired up at the corner. “What about the slippers I was wearing this morning?” she asked, thinking she had him.

Az rolled his eyes in playful exasperation. “I grabbed them when I snagged the birthing bag.” He kissed her hands again. “I’ve got you, love.”

And then she was leaning forward, kissing him with so much love and devotion, he felt it down to the soul she brought back to life. The sound of their family’s cheers forced them apart, a pretty blush dusting the tops of Elain’s cheeks, but she didn’t dare look away from him.

Without looking away from her, Azriel reached into his pocket, pulled out his keys, and tossed them to Rhys. “Can you grab Kaden’s bag from the trunk? The one with dinosaurs. And then Elain’s purple one as well.”

Elain’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Why is he grabbing mine?”

His lips pulled up into a knowing grin, brushing the shell of her ear as he leaned forward to whisper, “I thought you might like to change your underwear and put on a maternity pad for the ride to the hospital.”

Her cheeks heated in embarrassment, but she nodded in agreement.

A little body shuffled closer. “Momma?” Kaden murmured, looking so very worried over the state of his mother.

She held her arms out, motioning him forward. “C’mere sweetheart.” Elain tucked him into her chest, kissing the top of his head. “You’re going to stay here with Aunt Feyre and Uncle Rhys while Daddy and I go to the hospital to have your brother and sister.”

He looked up at her with those puppy-dog eyes and damn, the kid knew how to work them. “But I want to go with you!” His lower lip quivered and Azriel could tell he was on the verge of tears.

But his wife took it in stride, cupping his little face in her palms and swiping her thumbs across his cheeks. “I know, sweetheart. I know you do. But you’ll have a much better time here with your aunt and uncle. Momma’s not going to be fun to be around until your siblings are here.” She kissed his plump cheek. “But I promise that you will be the first to see us once they arrive. Okay?”

Feyre stepped forward, reaching out a hand for their son. “Come on, Kaden. We’ll have lots of fun eating all the desserts left over.” She shot them a wink when he finally relented, taking her fingers.

After cleaning her up as best as he could and getting her a maternity pad from her bag, he and Elain were in the car on the way to the hospital. As Viviane predicted, she had two more contractions on the way, grabbing his offered hand and the “oh shit” bar as she groaned her way through it. And then promptly went into a third one right as they arrived.

Az timed them out, still sitting about nine minutes apart. “Breathe, baby. Good, love. Just like that.” His thumb grazed the back of her hand. Her grip was tight, on the verge of painful, but he didn’t dare let his face flinch or show an ounce of discomfort. She needed his strength and that’s exactly what he was going to give her.

They were immediately escorted to their private room and Elain’s vitals were checked over. She was sitting at only two centimeters dilated, which meant they were looking at being there for a bit.

Between her contractions, he swapped out his clothes for a fitted black t-shirt and grey sweatpants to get more comfortable and then sent a text to their siblings to notify them that they were in and settled, but it would be a while before they would have any progress.

“Can you check in with Kaden?” Elain asked, taking a scoop of ice chips from her cup.

The corner of his lips curled up at the question. “I already did. Feyre said he wouldn’t leave the front window for a while and had to persuade him with his baby cousin and a lot of sweet treats.”

She snorted, shaking her head. “He’s going to have a mouth full of cavities before we get home.” Elain twisted to look at him. “Do you think we made the right decision by not letting him come with us? It sounds like he’s waiting for us to return. I know that some families let their little ones be present for the birth of their siblings and we discussed it—”

He interrupted her train of thought. “I think we made the right call, love. We’re going to be here for a while and we both know that things can upset him. I don’t know how well he’d handle watching you go through that.”

She nodded but didn’t look very convinced.

Azriel reached for her hand, covering it with his own and squeezing her fingers. “He’s safe and well-cared for. Remember that while we focus on bringing his little brother and sister into the world.” He brushed his lips over her knuckles in a sweet kiss.

Elain smiled softly at him. “Okay.”

And so, they waited.

Per his wife’s birthing plan, she wanted to attempt to go natural. Azriel admired her strength and resilience in doing so. But after over sixteen hours of hard labor, he could see her resolve fading.

He stroked her cheek, fingers brushing hair behind her ear. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

Dark circles already lined the underneath part of her eyes. She looked so weary. “I’m so tired, Az.” Her voice came out nearly broken and fuck if that didn’t just rip his beating heart from his chest.

Kissing her forehead, he murmured, “Do you want to get the epidural? It’ll help you get some much-needed rest before the delivery.” As of now, she was only at seven centimeters and the doctor had said it could still be a while longer until she reached a full ten.

Her chin dipped in confirmation. “Please.”

Azriel didn’t waste time calling for the nurse. Within ten minutes, he watched as a grossly large needle was inserted into her back, sending that relief washing over her. He peppered her face with kisses during the procedure, murmuring words of praise and comfort in her ear as she gritted her teeth through it.

Elain spent the next eight hours in a fitful sleep, dosing off and waking up not long after each time. Azriel didn’t bother to try and sleep, not when she wasn’t really getting much at all.

But finally, after just past nine, she was fully dilated and ready to push.

His wife pushed and pushed and pushed for a half hour with nothing to show for it. She was in tears, frustrated, and so exhausted he was practically supporting all her weight having slid an arm around her shoulders to keep her upright.

“I can’t, I can’t,” she sobbed, half burying her face into his chest.

“You can, love. You’re so strong. Just a little bit more,” he tried to reassure her. It fucking killed him to see her like this.

“Can’t you do it for me?” she pleaded, looking up at him with wild, desperate eyes.

He gripped her cheek in his palm, kissing her temple. “You know I would, El. I would give anything to switch places with you right now. But I know you can do this. Just a few more pushes and then they’ll be here.”

Whatever she read within his words seemed to do the trick, her brows furrowing with a determination he hadn’t seen since they left the house. Elain pushed herself up, trying to get into a kneeling position, and he was right there, sliding behind her and supporting her weight.

The nurses squawked, muttering something about hospital policy, but frankly, he did not give a fuck, snarling, “Her body is telling her to push like this. Listen to your fucking patient.”

Changing the position was exactly what she needed because their son was born within the next two contractions, entering the world with a healthy set of lungs.

They sagged back against the pillows, his face wet with tears as they placed their new baby directly on Elain’s bared chest. He couldn’t stop himself from tipping her head back to kiss her softly on the lips, pausing the savor the moment.

Az traced the pads of his fingers over the curve of their boy’s cheek, just needing to touch him to prove he was here with them. Even covered in fluids, he was so beautiful. The perfect blend of the two of them.

The nurses gave them just a few minutes with the first baby before Doctor Chen said that she needed to start pushing again. She took their boy from Elain’s arms, promising to bring him back for Azriel after he was cleaned up and their daughter was born.

Delivery of their little girl went easier than with their son. But whereas their boy came out crying, their daughter came out silent.

Azriel knew something was wrong just by the silence, but it only grew the anxiety in his stomach when the doctor turned her back on them, taking their little one with her to work on.

“She’s not crying,” Elain breathed, worry clouding her voice.

He could only squeeze her shoulders in comfort, watching as they shoved things into her nose and mouth.

“Suction,” Chen ordered.

“Azriel, why isn’t she crying?”

“She’s going to be okay, love. They’re helping her. She’s okay.” The words passed his lips even as his heart dropped into his stomach when they started doing compressions on her tiny body.

No.

This couldn’t be happening. They couldn’t lose her. It would kill him to lose his little girl, but Elain, fuck, he couldn’t even begin to fathom the devastation she would face at this loss. There was nothing he could do. He couldn’t pay to fix this or threaten someone to save their baby girl.

So, he did what any father would do.

He prayed.

He prayed to every god, every deity, everything, and anything he could think of to keep his little girl safe and bring her back to them. To take her place if they demanded it. A life for a life. He’d pay it for his child, his family. “Come on,” he murmured. “Come on, baby. Come on.”

Elain curved her face into the side of his chest, howling in a way he’d never heard from her before.

His arms went around her, that dreaded feeling turning his blood cold. The terror he felt of their little one dead before she lived was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. But still, he did not stop praying, clutching Elain’s shaking body to his. “Come on, little one. Come on!” he chanted. “Please.”

And then, a rattled cough tore from her tiny body, followed by the sweet, beautiful sound of her cry.

Elain’s wail turned into relieved sobs, as the doctor walked over their bundled little girl and placed her into his wife’s awaiting arms.

“Somebody was just so excited to meet you, she took a breath a little too early, but we cleared out her passages and lungs and she looks good now.”

His wife tucked their daughter into her chest, kissing the top of her head. “Hi sweet girl, Momma’s here,” she whispered, tears still falling down her cheeks. Tears that matched the ones running down his face.

She was here. His baby girl. Fuck, she looked just like him, with dark hair and tanned skin. He hadn’t gotten a look at her eyes yet, but already she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Here you go, Mr. Archeron-Knight,” one of the other nurses said, pulling his attention from his wife and daughter as she handed him his son, cleaned up and wrapped in a soft blanket.

The small bundle was gently laid in the crook of his elbow. Azriel didn’t think he’d ever feel the amount of love he did on Kaden’s adoption day, but sitting here with his gorgeous wife, holding their newborn twins, he felt his heart soar in his chest.

Sweaty and fatigued, Elain glanced up at his face, the sweetest, exhausted smile pulling on her lips. “I love you,” she murmured.

He let out a sound that was a cross between a chuckle and a sob. “I love you more.” And then he kissed her, sealing that moment in time with his undying love for her.

~~~~~

Elain woke to the sound of a whimpering cry, swiftly followed by Azriel’s low voice.

“Hey, sweet girl. What’s wrong, huh?” She heard some shuffling as her husband lifted their daughter from the nursery bed. “Momma needs her sleep so we need to be quiet.” He kept his voice low enough to not disturb her—fuck she loved him so much—but she was already awake, rolling over in the hospital bed to face him.

Azriel holding his children was, hands down, the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. How she could even feel the need for him after pushing two babies out of her currently aching and severely injured body was beyond her, but just watching him bounce their fussing daughter made all those desires come roaring to the surface.

Almost as if he could sense her presence, hazel eyes slid to hers. “I’ve got her, love. Go back to sleep.” His voice remained soft as night as if anything louder would disturb her.

She curled up on her side, watching him. “I think we should get used to no sleep now.”

He huffed a laugh, patting Rosalie on her back as she further settled into the crook of his elbow.

Their daughter was almost two pounds smaller than her brother, coming in right at five whereas Ryder was a healthy six pounds, fourteen ounces. The doctor was a little concerned over Rosalie’s lower birth weight, but Elain had managed to get both babies to latch and feed earlier and she ate well, so they were mainly playing it by ear.

Because of her smaller size, Azriel already placed an order for some preemie clothes and sent a photo of her with the twins to their siblings. They asked to give them a day to recuperate before coming to the hospital in the morning. After the scare with Rosalie, both she and Azriel wanted to take some time to spend with the babies. Plus, the medical team was in and out of their room, taking Rosalie for some additional tests just to be sure everything looked good.

It was just after seven that night, and they were settling in for the evening. Tired of hospital food, Azriel ordered hamburgers from DoorDash for them to eat. Elain was starving and it sounded so good that she drooled when she suggested it to him. Both babies had been fed only an hour earlier and she anticipated not having another feeding till late evening or early morning.

Elain grabbed whatever sleep she could, knowing she’d need it when they were released in a couple of days, but she was sure Azriel hadn’t slept a wink since she’d gone into labor.

She pushed herself up, reclining on her pillows. The nurses cleaned her after the delivery and stitched her up from tearing, but Elain couldn’t wait to get home and take a proper shower. “Does she need to be changed?” she asked, nodding to the now-sleeping baby in her husband’s arms.

Azriel shook his head. “No, I think she was just fussing.” His dark hair was still mussed up from when he stripped out of his shirt earlier, taking time for skin-to-skin contact with each of the twins.

Elain had to rein in her laugh at how the nurse blushed as he revealed miles of gloriously tanned, tattooed skin and corded muscle. Her husband was a fine specimen, but he never flaunted it, so seeing another woman react to it was humorous especially since he didn’t even seem to notice her blushing, stammering state.

“You should sleep too, Az,” she said instead.

He looked at her, his lips curving up. It had been doing that a lot since the birth of the twins. The sweetest, smallest smile that crept up the corners of his mouth. Almost as if he didn’t even realize he was doing it. It was utterly adorable and made him look younger. “I’ll rest later. You need it more than me.”

Her shoulders shook in amusement. “You know, we can sleep when they do.”

“I just don’t want to miss a second of them.” His attention returned to his little girl who already had him wrapped around her finger. To be fair, all of their children did. “Fuck, I can’t believe they’re here already. It seems like it was only a month ago you found out you were pregnant.”

“I can’t believe our first anniversary is coming up in just a handful of weeks.”

At that, he laughed. “I guess a trip for our anniversary is out of the question?”

She grinned. “Not unless all our little ones are coming with us.” Because like hell was she going to be able to leave them so soon. Plus with her nursing, it just wouldn’t be ideal.

He seemed to consider her. “We could take the jet to the Summer District. Kaden will be out of school then and we’ll both still be out on leave. Just a thought.”

Gods, he was fucking perfect. “That might be nice.”

A knock on the door interrupted whatever he was going to say. He frowned in confusion, looking at her.

Elain shrugged, sitting up further on her bed. “Come in,” she called out.

She thought it might be a nurse or a doctor, coming to check on her or the twins. What she didn’t expect was for Rhys to peek his head into the room. Surprise lit her features and she glanced at Azriel, who looked equally as bewildered at the sudden visit from their brother.

“Hey,” Rhys said. “I apologize for dropping by unannounced, but somebody really couldn’t wait till tomorrow to see you.” He opened the door slightly, revealing Kaden clutching a teddy bear, eyes puffy and red from crying.

Her heart ached at the distress their son must’ve been in for Rhys to come all the way here. “Hello sweetheart,” she said, keeping her voice soft. “Come here, my love.”

He took a small step further into the room, Rhys’s hand guiding him at the backside of his head. Kaden took slow steps as he approached the side of her bed. “Momma, are you sick?”

She reached out to cup his cheek in her palm. “No, baby. I’m not sick. Your brother and sister decided it was time to come out of my tummy.” Her eyes found Azriel’s as he rose from his seat on the couch, moving toward them. “Would you like to meet them?” she asked, returning her gaze to Kaden’s.

His head dipped in confirmation.

Elain pushed herself back even more. “Rhys, can you help him up and then grab me that flat pillow over there.”

He set the boy on the bed between her spread legs, Kaden shuffling backward and bumping into her sensitive lower area.

She hissed out in pain before she could stop herself. A wave of agony washed over her with enough intensity that her stomach curdled with nausea.

Azriel reacted immediately. “Easy, buddy. Momma’s going to be sore for a while and we need to be extra careful with her.”

“I’m okay,” she spoke quickly, not wanting to upset Kaden any more than he already was, and kissed his plump cheek as she breathed through the pain. “Okay, Rhys. Place the pillow over our laps.”

Adjusting his arms in preparation, Azriel gently lowered their daughter until she comfortably rested on the nursing pillow.

“Kaden, this is your sister, Rosalie,” he announced, letting his finger stroke her rounded cheek.

Elain couldn’t see his face directly, but she did catch his eyes widening as he stared down at her, his fingers carefully tracing over her delicate features just as his father did.

“Rosawee,” he said, not quite catching the ending syllable. It would be something they would have to work on. When she kicked a leg within her swaddle, he pulled his hand back, startled.

She laughed, feeling the bed dip as Azriel sat down next to them, bringing over their son. “And this is your brother, Ryder.”

He reached out to trace the outline of his brows, the touch gentle and exploratory. “I’m a brother?” he asked, turning his head to look up at her.

“That’s right sweetheart. You’re their big brother, and they’re going to love you so much,” she told him, kissing the top of his head.

Elain took in her family, her incredible husband, and three beautiful children. It sounded so wild to even think about. She was a wife and a mother. Thinking back, she remembered the day that had changed the trajectory of her life forever. The bank robbery a few years back. It was crazy to think how such a terrifying moment altered her life in the best of ways. It brought her back to the love of her life.

It put her on this very path.

She’d face every one of the moments since then tenfold as long as it brought her to this point in time, sitting here with her gorgeous little family.

“Perfect.”

She looked up at Rhys, catching him with his phone out.

“Your first family photo.”

Her lips turned up and silver lined her eyes. “Thank you, Rhys.”

He waved her off. “Do you want me to take Kaden back with me?”

“No,” Azriel said, ruffling his eldest son’s hair. “He can stay here with us tonight. Can you put his booster seat in our car? The keys are in my bag.”

“You got it.” He grabbed the keys but paused on the threshold. “And congratulations you guys. Rosalie and Ryder are beautiful.”

Azriel leaned further into her side, kissing her temple. “Thank you, brother.” Once alone, he turned her head toward his, bringing her mouth to his for a slow, sweet kiss. “I love you so damn much, Elain.”

His smile was infectious, making her lips turn up at the corners. “Thank you, Azriel, for giving me this life—these babies. You have made me the happiest I could ever imagine. I love you.”

“Momma! She’s got my finger,” Kaden’s giggle interrupted their moment.

They laughed, looking at their three beautiful children.

Elain knew that this perfect moment was just the very beginning of the rest of their lives.

~~~~~

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werewolfsmile · 22 days

Note

re: "All I’m saying is the fact that someone isn’t talking to me about Eliot Spencer every second of every day is very unfair and borderline illegal." & tags - if you want to, can you elaborate on your werewolf!eliot ideas?? i’d like to hear about it!! if not all good tho :)

Oh boy oh boy oh boy! Yes I would love to elaborate! (buckle up because i have Thoughts)

(wow this really got away from me so uhhh .... warning for 2k of ranting about Eliot as a werewolf?? list of headcanons under the cut)

From the moment I first met Eliot Spencer, I knew he was werewolf-coded. Aside from his insanely fantastic fighting abilities and the absurd amount of punishment he can take, there are many other factors that contribute to his werewolf status.

Eliot needs a pack Our boy is out here working on his own for years and look at all the good it did him! None! He carries severe trauma from his family life because he blames himself for how it all went down and doesn't think he'll be welcomed back. Plus something probably happened during his military days or early PMC days to put him off working with others. Could have been the pain of losing people all the time, could have been something more. Either way, Eliot working on his own is a defence mechanism - but a self-destructive one.

Wolves thrive in packs - like duh, they're pack animals. As my username suggests, I'm into werewolves and, by extension, wolves. I've done research for my own werewolf novels in the past, so I know that in an average wolf pack, each pack member will have physical contact with the other pack members on the regular. Like, several times an hour! (gosh if I can find the research paper this info came from I'll link it but honestly it's been years) That's a serious level of physical contact required to keep the emotional bonds of the pack healthy!

Flick back to Eliot. He loves to fight, he loves the violence and the pain, yes. He hates the killing and the blood on his hands. He actually tries to leave the assassin world behind after he meets Toby (which is before he meets Moreau, as per early dialogue in The French Connection Job). He bonds quickly with Toby. Show Eliot a little love and care and he's yours for life! He moves onto retrieval work, then somehow ends up working for Moreau.

Now, when we see Eliot and Moreau in The Big Bang Job, Moreau says, "You work alone." Which means that Eliot had that reputation when he came to Moreau. He probably only took contracts to start off with. But he accepted job after job from Moreau and was so good that he was highly respect and it's inferred he ended up as Moreau's top bodyguard/assassin. Why the hell would Eliot end up that close to a man who brings out all the worst in him? Because Eliot's a werewolf and no matter how toxic, Moreau fulfills the need for a pack bond that he's been missing all this time.

Fast forward to Eliot meeting the rest of the Leverage team. One job only - my ass. He saves Hardison's life after Hardison brought a gun to their little meeting - and we all know how Eliot feels about guns.

Wolves are designed to live and operate in packs. Eliot says it's one job only but is bonding with them all from the get-go. Werewolf trait confirmed.

Eliot needs physical touch Now, I know what you're thinking. Eliot canonically avoids physical contact with the team. He refuses hugs, especially from Hardison, growls at Parker poking his bruises (don't get me started on the growls), and shoves people (ahem Parker) out of his personal space. So why would he do all this if he needs physical touch??

Because he's one gigantic ball of angst and self-loathing and guilt.

Eliot doesn't think he deserves forgiveness or love or family, etc. That is a whole other rant, but he denies himself the physical contact he needs with others as a way of punishing himself.

However, as the series progresses, we see him become more comfortable with physical contact! He hugs Hardison several times, he doesn't move away from Parker, etc. Why? Because he's bonded with this team (ahem pack) and there's only so much he can suppress his instincts. The more time he spends with them, the more naturally the contact flows.

Eliot needs to protect others Whenever we get a scene of the team walking as a group, where is Eliot positioned 90% of the time?? That's right, at the back of the group. He lets the others walk in pairs and falls back to bring up the rear. He's keeping them all in his line of sight and constantly scanning for threats ahead, along with protecting the team from any rear attacks. It makes sense for him to do this given his military background, but it also makes sense for a werewolf to do this.

He's the only werewolf in the team. His instincts revolve around keeping the pack safe and protected, so he does that in the best way he knows how.

Not to mention how feral gets over kids!!

Wolf life is all about the pack and the family structure. Pups are integral to the pack's survival and future. Eliot doesn't have kids of his own. But that doesn't stop his instincts from blaring every time he interacts with a kid, be it on the con or off. He takes time out every time to help that kid in an attempt to calm the raging storm of instincts inside his body.

Eliot needs to feed others It's another werewolf instinct that rears its head when they're in the safety of their headquarters (ahem den). Protecting the team/pack from physical threats is just one aspect of taking care of them. Feeding them is the other major one.

None of these idiots can cook to save their lives - except Nate, but he's also drowning his liver 90% of the time, so Eliot has to compensate for that, too. The team can't operate at full capacity if they're not consuming good nutrition. So Eliot makes sure to feed them.

His humanity recognises that these are independent people - coworkers - and he can't control every meal of every day. But he can cook for them, once a week or once a job, which is just enough to satisfy his instincts that he's doing his part to care for them. Plus they love his cooking, and the praise he gets from it is an unexpected but pleasant bonus.

Eliot and team sports/kitchens This ties in with my first point about Eliot needing a pack, but all the times we see Eliot go super hard and get absorbed in the role he's playing are when he's on a team sport or he's in the kitchen. Both of these fulfill super important instincts for him - being in a team/pack and providing food for others.

Think about The Tap-Out Job. Eliot's playing a fighter but he's not pretending to be on a team. He doesn't get over-invested in the role. But what about when he's a baseball player? A hockey player? He falls into those roles hard because he's working with another team again, and this little werewolf is built for that environment. Same in The French Connection: the kitchen becomes his den, the students are his pack mates, and he goes hard at investing in them and protecting them. Never mind the personal aspect of Toby.

Same for episodes like The Fairy Godparents Job when we get a scene of Eliot teaching a bunch of girls self-defence. Team setting + protecting kids = happy werewolf instincts.

So, werewolf headcanons? I have a lot of different origin theories but the main one I like for Eliot is:

he became a werewolf either for a covert military op, or was bitten by Moreau (choose your own angst flavour)

if it was for the military, they were trying to engineer supersoldiers and he was deemed a failure; he has werewolf instincts all the time but only has enhanced strength, healing, etc on full moons

if it was bitten by Moreau, there's a psychic-style bond linking them, which is why he was so loyal to Moreau for so long, and also why he is so reluctant to go after Moreau

(wow this is too different theories already and i said this was my 'main one' whoops)

Eliot can only shift easily on the full moon; shifting outside of a full moon can only be caused by extreme stress and is ridiculously painful

he suffers an insanely high prey drive all the time and is so strict about his control because he doesn't actually wanna rip out the throat of Random Guard #3

he used to chain himself up for full moons so he didn't hurt anyone, but since the team found out about him, Hardison and Parker have taken it upon themselves to 'puppy-sit' him every full moon

this involves no chains but an obscene amount of dog chew toys. Eliot is never impressed. He also never chases or chews the toys. The video evidence Hardison has was obviously doctored.

Hardison and Parker found out the truth when a con went sideways and Eliot was trapped in a room with them during the full moon

he was terrified he was going to kill them - or worse, bite them - but his instincts recognised them as pack so instead he just tried to wrestle with them all night

Hardison had a major freak out when he discovered Eliot was a werewolf - it's one thing to be obsessed with sci-fi/fantasy, it's another thing entirely to see your best friend transform before your eyes

Parker was not even remotely phased, being all like, "pfft of course werewolves are real, I thought you knew that Hardison, you talk about your elves and orcs all the time!"

"Woman that is completely different and you know it!"

"What else do you think is fake? The tooth fairy?? Ha!"

Eliot is Done With Their Shenanigans

Parker only ever refers to Eliot as Sparky when he's in his wolf form

Sophie didn't actually know about werewolves before the reveal but she pretends that she did

Nate knew about werewolves before Eliot, he just chooses to pretend that they're Not A Thing

werewolves generally don't make good hitters, because the constant exposure to violence ramps up their hunting instincts aka they find it hard not to kill

of course, this doesn't matter if you're someone like Moreau who specifically wants killing machines and thus turns his top hitters into werewolves, to ensure loyalty and enhance his strength

the only other werewolf hitter not under Moreau's control that Eliot knows is Quinn, who most certainly did not pull his werewolf strength punches when they tousled in The First David Job

Quinn doesn't have a pack (werewolf or otherwise) and genuinely doesn't seem phased by this, which pisses off Eliot to no end

however, after they work together in The Last Dam Job, Quinn deems himself Eliot's Best Werewolf Bud and keeps popping up randomly to hang out on full moons, etc

Parker and Hardison are a bit weirded out (and a little jealous) of Quinn's attention initially, but soon get over that when they discover that two werewolves on a full moon absolutely play for hours like 6 month old puppies - especially with the tug rope

Eliot is Extremely Susceptible to belly rubs even in his human form, which is half the reason he pushes people out of his personal space a lot - his reputation would never survive anyone finding out

of course the entire team figures it out and take to ambushing him with belly rubs whenever he's being stubborn or annoying

belly rubs are also the only way he will relax enough when he's injured so they can treat his wounds

despite the incessant dog jokes, the ever-growing pile of dog toys, and the bowls labelled with "Sparky" and cartoon bone symbols ... Eliot absolutely adores the pack he's found himself in and wouldn't change them for the world

One of these days I will sit down and write a thousand fics for werewolf!Eliot! Till then, I'll just keep churning out the headcanons ;)

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the-badger-mole · 5 months

Text

AU Bot Plot: Can't Waste a Good Party

It was a disastrous wedding. Katara had been dubious about accepting a catering job for her older brother's college friend's wedding, having been warned by so many other wedding vendors never to work for friends and family. She thought it would be fine since she'd never actually met Zuko, and his insanely rich family had offered her a generous bonus on top of her full fee. It had been hard to turn down, especially since her business was still so new.

The wedding, Sokka had told his sister, was between Zuko and his off again/on again girlfriend, Mai. Privately, Sokka had told Katara, he wasn't thrilled that Zuko was marrying a woman Sokka had dubbed an emotional succubus, but Mai's father owned a company that Zuko's father wanted closer professional ties to. Hence why Ozai Kaji was spending a fortune on his son's wedding. Katara thought it was a bit antiquated use an arranged marriage that way, but it was none of her business as long as the check cleared. And it did.

Now Katara was glad that she'd added a no refunds clause to her contract. The bride hadn't shown up. No call; no note; no friend to tell Zuko and the gathered families what happened. She just didn't show up. And poor Zuko was left standing at the altar looking hurt, embarrassed and confused while around him the guests were in an uproar.

Sokka, proving himself the right choice for best man, snuck Zuko out the back while Ozai and Mai's father, Ukano shouted back and forth about what this meant for their business ventures. The wedding was taking place at a sprawling resort hours away from anyone's home, so leaving wasn't really an option that night. Sokka had made a call, a few guests who'd been sat in the back row snuck out as the warring families hurled insults and abuses back and forth. No one else had even thought of the reception yet.

Katara took no convincing, and with the wedding planner still tied up at the ceremony venue, there was no one to stop a party from happening. Sokka and Zuko's uncle, Iroh, convinced the jilted groom that he needed to eat, and there was no sense in letting good food go to waste. Iroh had offered to sponsor the bar that evening as a wedding present, and saw no need to change that plan, though now he paid the venue owner to keep out anyone else from the wedding unless he or Sokka said they could come in. They had some serious bucking up to do that evening.

"I'm sorry this happened to you, man," Sokka was saying as he pressed a glass of whiskey into Zuko's hand. "But I've gotta tell ya, I always thought Mai was wrong for you. She was so mean! I couldn't understand why you put up with her. Father or no."

"Sokka's right," said Suki. "I know you kept saying she made you happy, but all you two ever talked about was how miserable you were."

"I never said I was miserable," Zuko protested. "I said we hate the same things."

"Oh, and that's such a healthy foundation for a marriage," Suki snorted.

"Well, we can't all be you two," Zuko waved between Sokka and Suki. "So grossly into each other."

"Oh, trust me," Suki raised her brow at Zuko. "You and Mai were plenty gross." Zuko scowled at his friends, and then slumped back into his seat with a groan.

"I'll never find anyone else," he said. "Mai was the only one who would even consider marrying me."

"You'll find someone else," Sokka promised. "Dude, you're a total catch! Suki, back me up."

"You are an absolute hottie," Suki affirmed. "If I wasn't madly in love with Sokka, I'd take a run at you myself."

"Alright, that's enough!" Sokka tossed a crumpled napkin at Suki.

"What?" Suki laughed. "I was just cheering him up."

"I'm glad you two are able to find things to laugh about," Zuko cut in. "It's not like my life is falling apart or anything."

"Sorry, man," Sokka said, patting Zuko's back. "We're just trying to help."

"Then let me go back to the hotel," Zuko snapped.

"It's better to lay low here," Sokka insisted. "Iroh's got the front door covered, so none of your crazy family can get in. If you go back to the hotel, everyone's going to be hounding you. We've got a party of ten here with no crazy aunts or in-laws or fathers. We've got food, we've got booze. Once Jin figures out how to connect her phone to the sound system, we'll have all the sad music you want." Sokka looked around conspiratorially and then whispered to Zuko. "Plus, I have it on good authority that Jin might be happier than most that your wedding got cancelled, if you know what I mean."

"Sokka," Suki chided.

"What, baby?" he looked at Suki with wide eyes. "I didn't say you told me."

"Sokka!"

"What's my brother done now?"

"Hey! Here's the world's greatest chef!" Sokka cheered. "Is dinner ready or what?"

"I was just coming to let you know we'll be setting it out soon. I'm sorry it wasn't ready. I was anticipating more time." Zuko turned to say something, but then he froze.

"It's fine," Suki said quickly. "The appetizers are delicious."

"And the bar's open, so we're all good," Sokka said. Katara raised her brow at her brother.

"I see," she said. Then she turned to Zuko with what she hoped was a professionally sympathetic face. "I'll get the food set up, and then I'll be out of your way."

"You can stay," Zuko said hurriedly. He ducked his head and shrugged. "If you want. It's...it's not like you need to work the reception anymore."

"I don't want to intrude," Katara started.

"No, stay!" Suki insisted. "You've worked hard. You deserve a break. Right, Zuko?"

"Yeah, sis!" Sokka pressed. "Join the party! Zuko just dodged a nuclear missile. We need to fill him with booze and food and cake until he recognizes this was a good thing."

"Sokka!" Katara gasped. She rolled her eyes and turned to Zuko. "I apologize for my brother. He was taught better, but I guess it didn't stick."

"It's fine," Zuko said. "And it's fine if you stay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!" Suki said, pulling out the seat between her and Zuko.

#atla #zutara #sukka #au bot plots #runaway bride #THE YEAR OF CONTENT!!!!

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unclewaynemunson · 1 year

Text

Scott was just about to go to bed when he heard the familiar sound of the front door unlocking. He froze right where he was standing, at the top of the stairs, flooded by thoughts of burglars or angry neighbors who had found out or the police – no, wait, the police wouldn't do that, it wasn't illegal anymore to...

'Scott?'

He sighed in relief. It was just Wayne, of course.

It only took him a moment to register that that was odd, too. What was Wayne doing here when he had kissed Scott goodbye to leave for his night shift only an hour ago?

He pulled the dressing gown he was wearing over his pajamas tighter around his waist and rushed down the stairs to find his partner standing in the middle of the hallway, in his work clothes and with his forehead creased into a deep frown.

By now, Scott knew Wayne well enough that he could easily decipher his every micro-expression.

Other people, who didn't know Wayne like Scott did, would probably not notice a thing, but Scott saw it immediately: something was wrong.

'Did I wake ya?' Wayne asked when Scott reached the bottom of the stairs.

'No, I wasn't even in bed yet,' Scott hurried himself to say. He rushed forward and placed his hands on Wayne's shoulders, meticulously taking in the look on his face. 'What happened?'

'They fired me.'

Scott felt his jaw drop. 'Wh- you've been working there for, what, fifteen years?'

'Eighteen.'

'They can't –' he started in an indignant voice, but cut himself off before he could really get started. If Wayne had needed a reaction like that, he would've gone home, to Eddie. He probably came to Scott because he needed calmness and a listening ear. So that was what Scott would give him.

'Come with me, love,' he said, gently guiding Wayne into the living room. It was one of the only classical pet names they both felt comfortable using. Even after a year, give or take, Scott still got filled with wonder whenever he let it roll off his tongue. 'Why don't we sit down first?'

They sank down on the couch, Scott with his arms wrapped around Wayne in a comforting embrace.

'I been workin' there for eighteen years,' Wayne repeated, slowly shaking his head, as if he had a hard time believing it himself. 'Been loyal to them ever since I came back from 'Nam. Always kept my head down, always did what they asked of me, always filled in their shifts at the most ungodly hours. I had a mouth to feed, you know. I had my boy to take care of. Never complained, never even called in sick, not once in all those years.'

Scott realized that he had never seen Wayne angry before. It took until now for him to find out that even Wayne's anger was calm and collected and he tightened his grip around Wayne's shoulders.

'They told me I been absent too often this year,' he continued, with the slightest tremble underneath the calmness of his voice. 'Can you believe that? My boy went missing. He was gone for a whole week, people sayin' the most terrible stuff 'bout him. And he came back to me broken. I needed to do everything I could to help him. That's my job. That's always gonna be my first and most important job. Everything I ever did was only for Eddie. Not for them, never. And they had the guts to tell me I ain't got the “right priorities.”' He spat out those last words, finally allowing himself to get visibly worked up about it.

'That's what they said?'

'Made me sound like I was lazy, like I been slacking off. Those bastards.'

They continued to sit in silence for a while. Scott listened to the clock on the wall behind them, invisibly ticking away the seconds and minutes Wayne needed to come back to himself.

'They probably can't fire you just like that,' Scott finally said. 'I don't think they're allowed to do that; you should take a look at your contract to check.'

Wayne scoffed. 'And what then? Spend the income I don't have no more on some lawyer who ain't gonna help me anyway?'

Oftentimes, when it was only the two of them, shielded away from the outside world together, it was easy to forget how different they actually were. But right now, the obvious differences of their circumstances came crashing down on them like a painful hailstorm: Wayne had lost his job and his fears of not being able to make ends meet anymore were more real and valid than Scott could probably imagine.

He squeezed Wayne's shoulder to make clear to him that he understood.

'You're good at what you do, Wayne,' he continued in a soft voice. 'Your hands are pure magic, you can fix anything. You'll find a new job in no time. Maybe this was a good thing; you'll be able to find something that makes you happy.'

'Somethin' that makes me happy?' Wayne echoed, a disbelieving, almost defiant look in his eyes that made him look more like his nephew than ever. 'Scott.' He said his name fondly, but there was something underneath it, something that almost sounded like pity. 'Folk like me... We don't get that luxury. We live paycheck to paycheck. I miss one, I got a problem. A big one. If I was gonna allow myself to have dreams, I'd need a loan, and sure as hell no bank is gonna hand out money to someone who lives in Forest Hills.'

Wayne had told him, once, how he used to dream of starting his own company, getting himself a van filled with tools and making a name for himself as Hawkins' most reliable handyman. He had told Scott how impossible that dream turned out to be when you were named Munson, had no high school diploma and no one to vouch for you – and how that dream had officially died when his nephew showed up on his doorstep with nothing but a change of clothes and a rumbling stomach.

They had never talked about it since. Scott knew that Wayne wouldn't want it to sound like Eddie had come between him and his dream, that it wasn't like that at all, that Eddie easily was the best thing that ever happened to him, even if it meant working nights at the plant until his death.

'What if you got yourself an investor?' Scott tried to keep his voice light.

'Scott.' It sounded like there was a warning in Wayne's voice – like he knew exactly what plan Scott had in mind and like he would never even consider it.

'I'm serious about it!'

'I ain't gonna be your charity case.'

'That's not what this is,' Scott protested. 'It'd be a loan, because I believe in you and because I want you to live your dream. You deserve it. I have the income to provide for a whole family, and for years, my only family member has been a well-behaved snake who doesn't ask for much. I'm not suggesting to provide for you, I know you wouldn't want that. I'm just... offering you a way out. Because I care about you.'

Wayne sighed heavily. He switched in Scott's arms, leaned closer towards him to place a gentle kiss against his lips.

'I love you,' he said. 'I ain't takin' your money.'

Scott sighed, too. He could've seen this one coming, of course; Wayne Munson and his damn pride.

'Alright, then. You wanna stay here for the night?' he asked, knowing it would be pointless to continue the conversation.

'You can go to bed,' Wayne answered. 'I ain't tired yet. Was counting on workin' till sunup, remember,' he added darkly.

Scott hummed, pulled Wayne closer towards himself. 'You can still keep me company, now that you're here anyway. I don't have to go to sleep right away,' he said in a low voice, shooting Wayne a meaningful glance to make sure he wouldn't miss the hidden meaning behind those words. 'And you should allow yourself some rest.' He pressed his lips against Wayne's. 'Maybe we could try and get you out of that night owl rhythm, now that you don't need it anymore. Means we finally get to spend more than one hour a night in bed together.' He placed another kiss at Wayne's temple, one that seemed to persuade him, judging by the way he finally started to let himself melt into Scott's touches.

'Alright, I'll come upstairs with you,' he murmured. 'Remind me to call Eddie in the morning.'

'Hey.' Scott stretched out his hand and let his fingers glide over the crease between Wayne's eyebrows, as if he could simply wipe all his worries away in one single sweep. 'We'll figure something out. I'm not letting you struggle with this all by yourself. You're not alone in this world anymore; better get used to that, love.'

Wayne didn't say anything, but Scott hadn't really expected him to, anyway. He just hoped that his words would stick with Wayne until the morning.

---

It was one of those beautiful sunny days and both Scott and Steve were over at the trailer, enjoying a simple lazy afternoon with not much going on except for soaking up the warm sunlight together and listening to the birds that were singing their hearts out in the trees at the edge of the woods. It was peaceful – but not peaceful enough for Wayne to forget about his money issues. The steel factory preferred strong young guys over old men like Wayne and the mechanic didn't currently need any new employees. If he didn't find something within two weeks, he might not be able to make rent. He kept shooting worried glances at Eddie, afraid that the boy might notice his fretting. He didn't want him to worry yet, needed to find some way out by himself before Eddie would realize how tight their money was; preferably one that wouldn't involve some sort of humiliating dependence on his partner.

'C'mon, I need to show you something,' said Eddie in a hushed voice, startling him from his brooding.

Slightly confused, Wayne followed him, leaving Scott and Steve in each other's company on the porch.

'Everythin' alright?' he asked Eddie when they were out of earshot of the two other men.

Eddie shot him a wide, excited grin. 'Couldn't be better,' he said. 'You see that van over there? That's yours. I raised some money to get you to start your own company.'

'Oh hell no,' Wayne answered immediately, a hollow feeling settling in his chest. 'I'm an honest man, you know I ain't takin' your damn drug money.'

Eddie gasped, dramatically clutching at his heart. 'First of all, rude,' he said, 'and second, it's not my money; man, I wish selling drugs would pay that well.'

Wayne's eyes flashed over Eddie's head, towards Scott, who was animatedly talking to Steve, waving his arms around the way he always did when something got him all excited. He suppressed a smile at the sight and tried to look stern and annoyed when he focused his attention back to Eddie.

'Did Scott set you up to this?'

And Eddie got that way too innocent look in his eyes that was telling Wayne all he needed to know within a second.

'No...' he said. 'It's actually, um – Steve's parents. Who wanted to invest in your business.'

Wayne crossed his arms in front of his chest, giving his nephew the most intimidating glare he could muster.

'Steve's parents, huh?'

'Yeah.' Eddie nodded vigorously, still all wide-eyed.

'They came around to their son bein' a queer and dating trailer trash, and decided to invest in his piss poor father-in-law's business?'

'Hmhm, yep.' More fervent nodding.

'Well, I guess I should go congratulate the boy, then.'

Wayne started walking back towards the trailer and got exactly what he expected:

'No! Okay, they didn't – it's Steve's college money, alright? He still had access to it, and he doesn't wanna go to college anyway, and we both wanted to spite his parents – it was the perfect setup! And he didn't pay for everything, alright?' Something gentler crossed over Eddie's face. 'Everybody chipped in with whatever they could spare. A couple of bucks for an advertisement in the paper, a nice new screwdriver set, some unused tools that the Wheelers found in their garage...'

Wayne felt a lump in his throat at those words. He didn't have to ask who Eddie meant by “everybody” – he knew exactly who had been there for his boy when Eddie most needed people to have his back. Over the past year, all those kids had become like family to Wayne as well.

'Okay, and yeah, maybe there also was an anonymous investor who believes in you and wants you to be happy,' Eddie admitted. 'Look, they all love you, man. You gave them – us – a place where we could feel safe. Where we could be ourselves. And you can't –' tears were appearing in Eddie's eyes now, 'you can't express any of that in money, you know. So just – just be grateful, okay?' He took a quick breath to recollect himself and Wayne politely pretended like he didn't notice.

'We already got you the van, Will designed a logo with me, it's already on it, and it looks really cool – even if I say so myself. Look, if you can't accept it out of love, can you at least accept it out of spite for Steve's parents?'

Wayne abruptly pulled Eddie towards him and wrapped him up in a brusque embrace, ruffling his hair and patting his back.

'I love you, Ed.'

It wasn't something he said often. He tried, especially since everything that happened last year, since he almost lost his Eddie, but it was still difficult, to say such powerful words out loud. It didn't come naturally for him. He preferred showing it rather than saying it. But he had learned that it sometimes needed to be said.

'Love you too, man,' Eddie murmured, squeezing him tightly in response.

---

When the evening fell and Steve and Eddie had left to go out for burgers at the diner across town, Wayne walked up to Scott, who was already rummaging around in the trailer's tiny kitchen about to cook up something delicious. He caught his partner's attention by placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, and Scott looked back at him with a vaguely distracted look in his eyes.

'You are an evil man, Scott Clarke.'

And Wayne could see that Scott immediately understood what he was referring to; the lines around his eyes deepened as he started smiling that slightly mischievous smile Wayne loved so much.

'Why? Because I want you to be happy?'

'Cause you went and exploited my weakness. You know I can never say no to Eddie.'

Scott's smile widened.

'So... Are you mad at me?'

Wayne huffed. He wrapped his arms around Scott's waist, tugged him closer, tightened his grip when an adorably surprised sound escaped from Scott's throat.

'Thank you,' he said.

And Scott started beaming like the goddamn sun before he leaned in to press his lips against Wayne's.

#back on my clarkson bullshit #i just want them to be happy okay #also if anyone wants to give me some honest feedback on wayne's southern dialect PLEASE DO bc english isn't my native language and i #honestly have no idea what i'm doing #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #wayne munson #scott clarke #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #stranger things #fruity ficlet

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chimericalilith · 4 months

Text

Entangled Ribbons and Gifts

𐙚°˖➴ pairing. marius x fem!reader 𐙚°˖➴ tags. ooc, smut, lots of teasing, fluff, established relationship, bits of light bondage, both are top/bottom, multiple rounds 𐙚°˖➴ wc. 4.1k words 𐙚°˖➴ notes. inspired from marius MR christmas card. reader is a bit feisty, nickname; miss. first time posting so its simple layout we ball.

Tidying up some gift boxes, you finally finished another long list of gift wraps. Christmas always makes the business buzz, but it’s always so tiring. You sigh as you fix your posture and scan your finger for another list, waiting for you to wrap them all up. As your gaze transfixes on the list and your mind starts to wander which ones you should sort out in the workshop, a jingle sound spurred in as the door open, softly producing a creak of a sound.

You don’t bother looking up, your hand starts propping skillfully. Tying up the bows and cutting paper miniatures alongside carved letters with intense speed. It’s nearing Christmas Eve and you still haven’t thought up of how to surprise Marius, making your job more ironic. Unconsciously forgetting the opened door beforehand, there’s a sudden warmth wrapping around your waist that sends a jolt towards your body.

“Missy, what’s got your face all scrunched up?” Marius teased with a knowing smile, his wrap around your waist only getting tighter.

“Oh, I don’t know Mister. Maybe the fact that I’m carefully putting a wreath together and someone decided to surprise me which almost caused the unfurling of this whole thing. Almost pressed charges for my patience.” You met his gaze, lowering them to where his hand nestled comfortably.

Marius lowered his face to the nape of your neck, breathing hotly against it, lightly grazing your neck. A shiver ran to your body. Before, you slowly continue punching out snowflake papers for the gift wraps but now? Completely stopped on your tracks.

“I-I’m working right now. Plus, people can see us and it’s certainly not good for business.” You muttered, although you both secretly knew that it isn’t that much out of your realm. You did it before, besides you didn’t do anything about his hand that slowly slivers under your skirt.

“Hm? I don’t have any clue what you’re implying Miss. But…well, if you say so.” He gripped your thigh, swirled his fingers around it, and completely let you go. The warmth suddenly left you which inadvertently made you sigh. But that’s beside the point although his visit is an everlasting welcomed one, what’s with the sudden visit?

“With that out of the way, why did you come here? Did you want to put an order for a gift?” You asked, putting a certain distance between you two so he doesn’t try to do anything funny. Again. You spun your body around, preparing for a notepad to jot it down in case he does.

“Yeah. I’m planning to put together this event however I’m quite lacking in terms of this so-called professional eye for the quality. And that’s where you come Miss.” He winked, snatching a folded paper out of his shirt and surprisingly it’s a genuine contract stating my work.

“Well, I’d love to know how it feels to be employed by my own boyfriend but unfortunately, I’m swamped by work right now. Christmas season really is the gift-wrapping business’s main stage.” Lowering your gaze, feeling a tiny chip of guilt chiming in your heart.

‘Ah, no worries, Miss! I just thought that as a boyfriend I can help in terms of business. Which seems it isn’t needed, because it’s apparent everyone wants my girlfriend so much, she can’t even spare some time for me.” Marius pouted, although that pinkish hue peeking out of his ears betray him of how casual he took you calling him a your ‘boyfriend’. It didn’t completely miss you about how you two don’t meet as often now due to how swamped you are with your work. Seeing him right in front of you reminded of how much you missed him. It brings you back to Christmas of last year where you two are practically inseparable. He always readies you to work by propping earmuffs and cozying up your scarf to your neck.

He always made sure to cover up the hickeys well. Realizing your musings are turning to a certain direction, you completely shut it down and cleared your throat.

“…Well, I might not be able to fully help but I think I can assist you in simpler ways! I ordered too much ribbon cloth by accident. I think there’s a lot to spare for your event and it might spice it up better.” You cheerfully added, covering up the indecent thoughts you had while Marius has his eyes bore on you curiously.

“Only if it doesn’t burden you. But that will be super helpful. I’ll make sure my girlfriend is properly compensated.” Marius softly laughed, closing in the distance between the two of you and nuzzled his nose against yours.

“By the way, I think ribbons would look nice on you Miss.” He whispered in your ear, before pulling you into a hug and kissing your forehead. Feeling your face burn up, you pull his collar shirt and kissed him deeply. Tongue swirling until you’re out of breath.

“H-haa…Miss…” Your intertwined lips parted. Before he can do anything more, you immediately let go and push him out of the store. Sticking your tongue out, you look at his flustered face and feel smugness bubbling in your insides. Marius 0 – You 1. That is until you crouched out of embarrassment, face painted as red as the bulb ornaments decorating your store festively.

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

You arrive at the event, carrying big boxes filled with satin silk. It is worth noting that the red and dark-light hue of green stash are abundant compared to other heaps of ribbon cloth. Picking up the boxes strains bits of your muscles that’s only used to meticulous work caused you to furrow your eyebrows, configuring an image of you taking multiple trips back-to-back to deliver it. Seems like your fate is sealed and all you can do is relish in its despair. That is, until Vincent showed up.

Perking your head up excitedly, you hurriedly greeted Vincent. Way too eager to get rid of this delivery and start up on decorating the ribbons instead. “Thank god you’re here Vincent! Am I too presumptuous to assume that you’re here for backup to pick all this up?” You exasperated a laugh, a bit desperate that you’re wrong and Vincent is indeed here to help you.

“Technically, I’m not here for that… But I am the in charge to bring the reinforcements specifically.” Hastily following up his speech, noticing your face falling in the middle of his sentence which quickly lit back up as fast as fairy light bulbs.

“Now, let us haste to the venue for the decoration.” Vincent said, instantly walking with you following with a haste. Upon entering the venue, the smell of cinnamon wafted throughout everything with a small hint of sugar canes mixed with hot chocolate scents. You can even smell the faint smell of the mint. It truly is a mesmerizing event, knocking you back to your senses that this is Pax Foundation we’re talking about so we’re not here to joke around.

“We have arrived at the venue, now if you will excuse me- “

“So? What do you think Miss?” Warm hands suddenly enveloped your shoulder, startling you which shocked you a bit which caused the voice to kick in a soft a laughter.

“Woah! Easy… I know you’re excited to meet me but let’s exert some patience, shall we?” Meeting Marius’s gaze, you see the glint in his eyes. Great, he’s going to tease that about you for the whole day now.

With Vincent nowhere to be found, your focus retrack back to Marius and you crossed your hands. “Hey, aren’t you the eager one to see me?” Pouting your lip ever-so-slightly, undoubtedly Marius bit the bait. His smirk growing bigger.

“Well, if you say so. Now, chop-chop! Get to work, dear Miss.” His face shifted suddenly, refusing to return your gaze. Shrugging, turning his back onto you, and stepping away. What a petty man! You thought, but before your hand reached him out you step back. Not wanting Marius to get the upper hand you decide to participate in this ‘nonchalant game’, aiming for the top spot.

Hence, you begrudgingly start putting up ribbons. Concocting placements that would strategically fit the best in the venue. Slowly, you completely forget the begrudging feeling and started humming to the tunes that played rhythmically in the background. Amidst it, your mind suddenly buzzed. That’s it! You finally know how to solve the looming problem that’s haunted your brain for days. Staring at the ribbons, you giggled. Marius is in for a surprise.

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

Tipsily checking your watch, you see it’s 10.36 PM; 24th December of 2032. You took another sip of red wine Marius prepared you. Cozily waiting for the celebration of Christmas, you decide to spend it in a cabin with Marius. Intending to participate snowboarding, the plan didn’t happen. The snow piled up more than you two thoughts of and so, here you are. Nibbling your olives from the charcuterie board while excessively sipping wine.

You gaze at Marius sitting near the fireplace, deciding to join him. Bringing a giant blanket to cover the both of you, you cozily snug up on him. He embraces you softly, slowly resting his head towards the nape of your neck. Both of you enjoying this silent moment together. Moments pass but the drowsiness never hits you, rather it feels hot. Its like heat bubbling up inside, one look at Marius and you notice you’re not the only one.

Gazing each other, you slowly intertwine into a kiss. From soft wanting kisses it turned into a more ferocious one. Swirling each other’s tongue, panting out of breath whilst your hand crumpled his khaki shirt. Subconsciously, you unbutton few of the top ones. Riding off of the heat, you start to graze your teeth and lick his neck, paying extra attention to the veins.

“Mm…haa… right there Miss…” Marius panted, lifting you up to put you on his lap, direct contact with his clothed bulge. Heat swirling, pooling up your stomach making you dizzy. Trying to keep your head clear, you realize this is the perfect time for the surprise.

“…Marius…. hngg hold on. I… have something to give you…” You whisper weakly, desperately trying to keep the heat inside you from bubbling up. Wriggling your way out of his clutch, you softly put his hand off of your hips. Releasing the intact from his obvious bulge.

Unhappy with how the situation continued, Marius reaffirmed his grip onto yours. “Miss… really? Must it be right now?” Whining, his eyes sparked bits of desperation. Not wanting to release you. Biting back, you shift your fingers to his button shirt, freeing it from him by unbuttoning three buttons from the bottom. Slowly, you caress his abs, swirling it softly. Leaving a ghost of a touch, sending shivers down his spine.

“Now… let’s be a good boy and let me give you something. I promise, it’s worth the wait.” Emphasizing on each word, tapping on each of his abs. He squirmed, loosening his grip on you. Oh, how pretty your boyfriend looks. You wish he knew how his lips, plump after countless kisses you did and his face. His face stained with red from the mix of wine and the feverish heat that intoxicates the both of you.

Taking advantage of this moment, you hurriedly slip away and instantly rummaged your belongings until you find the right one. A red box, filled with beautiful ornaments but most importantly, ribbons. Bringing the box towards him, you scoot just right over to him and opened your mouth “Dear Marius, close your eyes.” Which surprisingly he obliged. Chuckling, you put one of the ribbons to cover up his eye.

“Uh… Miss? What is this for, perhaps?” Grunting, his vision taken away. Marius immediately jolted when you put your hands around his neck and went up close to his ear.

“Now, stay still. Why are you so nervous for? Are you thinking of something…bad?” You exaggerate your voice, sarcasm seeping through while making a mocking gasp. Doesn’t help how this seemed to turn Marius on more, as his cock visibly twitched.

Seeing as he is genuinely staying still, you start to prop up your craft. First, you’re taking the green ribbon, beautifully lush with a hue of lighter grass green. Going from bottom to top, you wrap it around his thigh. Making him buck down while you quickly stop and caress his chest. “Shh, take it easy. We’ll be there when I finish. So let me.” He only answered with another grunt. You continue to wrap around his chest, tying it up with a pretty little ribbon.

Feeling pretty satisfied with yourself, you hastily take another ribbon. It’s red this time. You carefully nudge your way around his neck. Making sure its loose, but he can feel it. You wrap it more times than before, finishing when it reaches his thigh. Nudging him to lay down, you stare at your masterpiece. Your own little gift. Admiring your hard work, you release the ribbon used to blindfold him and look at him expectantly.

“Oh… so this is your little gift to me. How’s it? Tying up a handsome man, very influential too nonetheless. Never expected you to have these thoughts regarding me. Been lonely, hm?” Marius remarked teasingly, but his face melts to a sweet smile. Well, that face is also soon wiped out of his face too. Because you started undressing in front of him.

Peeling off clothes one by one, you scoot closely over to him. It’s cold, and you’re naked. Plus, it’s super embarrassing but that part is soon erased when you start ravaging each other mouths once more. Even when all tied up, Marius still tries to use his tongue to overcome you. You slowly climb up his body, positioning your entrance towards his mouth.

“Lick.”

He did just that, and more. Needing a grip, you start tugging on his hair. At first, it’s a lick, but then he continued – deeper on you, swirling it inside of your clamp walls. Your hips instinctively buck, riding out your high off of his tongue. The cabin floors creak, he starts lapping your wet cunt up with no mercy. Noticing how much you’re enjoying it he ups the intensity, slathering himself in your juice.

“Miss, you look so fucking beautiful… bouncing up and down for me. Just like that…” Marius breathlessly mutters, continuing to lick all your juices. Suckling on your pearl, he coos and pushes hot breaths into it. Making you let out a whimper. Needing more, you push his head whilst jerking his hair, resulting his tongue reaching further into your walls. Clenching on it, you choked on his name and squirted all over his face.

Dazed off of your high, Marius starts to prop his body up. Making you feel just how clearly his cock is twitching, aching to be released. You shudder, the release left you beyond sensitive. “H…haa, Marius…wait….” You feel his hand getting untied, propping them on your naked hips.

“I’d love to Miss… so go on.” Marius smirked, knowing you’re still recovering from before. Refusing to give in to his whims, you start unbuckling his pants. He’s the gift, you’re the one that’s going to savor it. His tip leaking from pre-cum, is enormous. Standing upright you try to line it up with your entrance so it doesn’t slip and oh so slowly, you start to slid your cunt in.

‘Hngg…. Ha….aah….Marius…” You start to move it up and down, squelching noises echoed throughout the cabin. Your hand locking to his neck, needing a grip. You move achingly slow, Marius grunts becomes more and more visible. Visibly gripping the rug till his knuckles went white. You chuckle, nibbling your mouth up his ear while occasionally moaning. Reveling in the fact that there’s nothing he can do about it.

“I… c-can’t. You little minx… driving me insane.” Marius panted, hair damp from all the restraining he had to do. But all his words dry out when he feels you instantly clenching around him from his new nickname, chasing yet another high off of your own.

"F-fuck... didn't know you're sensitive like that Miss..." He whispered barely audible. Hot breaths scorches through your ear. Your own knees start to buckle, pace getting sloppier. Clenching all the while you pull out till his tip and crash down till it hits your cervix, Marius gasped out a moan and you feel it twitch. Skin against skin, you hug till your nails scratch against Marius’s back leaving marks while the two of you chase both of your high. Clenching as hard as you can, you both crash into climax at the same time. Mixing splashes of your fluids, leaving both of you delirium off of the heat.

“M-Miss, please… need more…” Marius whined, which earned a chuckle from you.

“Who’s the winner now?” You flicker your gaze away, musing. You did climax twice and he did only once, plus he obliged even if it was achingly slow for him. Fair game, you’ll let him off this one time.

“Fine.” You sigh, “One time, let’s see what you got. It’d be a shame if I couldn’t even reach orgasm though…” You scoffed playfully, which Marius started acting on. He starts spreading soft kisses. Your nape, your collarbone, your breast. Stopping on your breast, he trails down his fingers down till your stomach – causing an arch down your spine. Closing in on the lower part of your stomach, he starts to circle on your clit.

“F-fuck… you’re so wet. And you said no orgasm? Minx.” He hisses, jamming one finger into you ruthlessly. Your chest heaves, sucking in how expertly he’s using his finger to flicker in-between your walls. Increasing his digits, he jammed two fingers inside you. Relishing in the way you’re grinding against his hand, pinching your pearl which earned a shriek from you. But just before you’re so close… he lets it out.

“What’s that…f-for, Marius!?” You breathed heavily, sounding more desperate than you intended to.

“That’s what you get for trying to play by yourself. Now, open up.” Spreading your hips apart, Marius slid his cock in one thrust. Choking a sound, you grab him hastily for support. It’s an insanely different feeling from before. The intensity, different.

“Hng… Fuck. You’re s-so tight. Loosen up a bit…. will you…?” Hastening the pace, wet slapping sounds wafts through the cabin. Pressing on the bulge inside your stomach, Marius put another stimulation towards you. Trying your best not to lose through the haze of it, you scratch more and more of his back. Each thrust intensified, making louder noises, you start wrapping your legs around him.

“M-Marius…close…. Keep it going….” You blabbered, clenching. Moaning right up to your ear, Marius starts to lose his pace and his thrusts becomes sloppier. Pressing more tightly towards your bulge, you squirm and choked up a tired moan. Feeling you climax, Marius grunts and thrusted a few more till he also climaxed. Relieved, you start propping up your stiff muscles to relax. Only to behold the sight of Marius’s cock, still hard and ready for another round.

“Oh, come on now, Miss. Finish what you started!” Marius whined, which resulted in a pout. You refuse to relent; you already gave him one chance. Maybe you’re lenient with him sometimes, but that’s not today. Huffing, you thought of an idea.

“Okay.”

“Really? We- “

“However, there’s a requirement. You can’t go in. At all.” Sharply cutting him off, you scoffed. This sure is a payback for fucking you so hard before that your hips are basically sore. You see his face falling off.

“Th-that’s not fair.” Marius stuttered, dumbfounded over your answer.

“Well, you wanted something and I rewarded you. Won’t you reward me now for this thing I asked of you Marius. Please?” You mockingly pouted, wishing him to take the bait. He did take it, marvelously. He scoots over out of desperation and softly touched your thigh.

“So, anything… as long as it isn’t your clit can do right?” You slowly nod, starting to grapple what he meant by that. You spread your thigh open, cocking your head high. Signaling agreement to what he’s about to do.

“Well, good luck. Third’s time the charm after all… hm.” You hum, feeling happy over your plan working out. Every single one! Flawlessly. You sense a rubbing in your thigh and your head that’s up at the clouds drags back down to earth again. Flickering your gaze towards Marius. He starts speeding up, grinding against your thigh. Shoveling down all his embarrassment against his desires that’s burning him up. Panting and moaning, making a slobbery mess of himself. You position your thigh to assist him, scooting closer and humming on his ear. Teasing him, you sucked on his neck which propelled him to climax. An orgasm for a hickey, quite an equivalent exchange isn’t it.

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

That was intense. You liked it, and Marius liked it though. However, it did take all the stamina out of you. You’re spent. Drowsily, you try to stand up. Hips being sore, the result of foul play of Marius. You wince, going back to your bed. But you can’t go to bed before taking a bath, that’s simply just isn’t an option. So, you sit. Contemplating on what to do.

Setting down bits of his work that he’s been doing, Marius slides to your side of the bed. Moving your hair to one side, resting his head carefully upon your neck while pulling you into a deep hug. He’s so tender with how he moves, careful not to put a single bit of weight upon your spent body. Slowly nuzzling his face to your cheek, he whispered “Care to take a bath, Miss?”.

He must have realized, breaking into a smile you eagerly nod. Propping you up, he carried you ala princess bridal style. Grinning, Marius strides towards the bathroom where a bathtub sits at the center of the bathroom with a bunch of lotion, creams, soaps, shampoo splayed out. Putting you down on a stool, he starts leveling the level of warmth for the water running through the bathtub. Busying himself with picking scents of soaps and shampoos, flickering his gaze towards you ever so slightly once in a while.

Once everything’s ready he makes a show out of it by sprinkling rose petals everywhere then insisting on carrying you. Not letting your feet touch the cool marble ground of the bathroom. He sets you in, then starts softly scrubbing your skin with a sponge. Smoothly handles your hair, making braids out of it in the process. He tends to you like you’re a budding flower, such care and tenderness. Every move earnest and once everything is done, he marvels at the sight of you. Making sure he doesn’t lose out; he scrubs the hell out of himself before both of you return to the couch.

“Marius, why did you specifically pick this cinnamon scent?”

“Well, because I noticed you wafting through the smell of the venue a few days ago and humming when the cinnamon ones are sprawled throughout. Can’t have you forgetting what the occasion is tomorrow.” He sarcastically added, knowing that the both of you just spend Christmas huddling on each other, drinking hot chocolates, and relishing each other’s gifts. Chuckling, you give into his arms. It’s ridden with peppermint. Complimenting the cinnamon. A lovely sight, and a memory that’s etched forever for future Christmas that is to come.

You and Marius sat in the sofa for what it seems a long while, when suddenly the hour beeps and Christmas tunes chimes in. Signifying the change of date into 25th of December, 2032.

Looking at each other, you both smiled tenderly.

“Merry Christmas, Marius.”

“Merry Christmas, Miss.”

“I’m insanely grateful for you, Miss. It shames me how word doesn’t justify but I’m happy to be your gift. Used whenever you like. Because, your own existence into my life has been the most magnificent gift of it all.” Marius spur out his words, pink hues covering his face making his glassy eyes stand out.

“Oh, Marius… You’re a gift to my life too. Life has been such a delight, and I can’t see myself without you.” You softly wrap your arms around his body, nuzzling against his cheek and returning his gaze. You don’t need a mirror to know that the both of you are making the same face right now.

You lean into Marius for a kiss, resulting in a long tender kiss filled with warmth. Both of you taste like candy canes you ate whilst sitting with Marius. Snuggling your head up Marius’s chest, you let out a satisfied sigh. Drowsiness washing the both of you, falling asleep leaning towards each other and awoken by the chirps of a chickadee. Welcoming a Christmas morning, unwrapping each other’s gifts with buzzing excitement.

#tears of themis #tears of themis smut #marius von hagen #marius x reader #lu jinghe

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