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youraverageaemondsimp · 8 months

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To Ruin. // Dark!Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader

THIS IS A DARK FIC, READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

MDNI

block the tag #MAE:DARK!CONTENT to avoid seeing dark content from me.

Summary: you are aegon's and helaena's daughter, being the eldest triplet, you were betrothed to your older uncle Aemond the moment you were born, he seemed to show no interest in you, being lost in his own world until he returns to kings landing and sees you again, in your prime age. // based on this request.

WARNINGS: noncon to dubcon, p in v sex, fingering, orgasm denial, knife kink, blood kink, dacryphilia, breeding kink, choking kink, corruption kink, purity culture, age system is in accordance to medieval/canon standards and not modern but do not worry they dont get sexual until reader is 19, virginity loss, tiddy sucking, thoughts of violence, fucked up shit, age gap (13 years), extreme canon divergence, cunty aemond + not proofread

WC: 4.3k

The moment you were born, you were immediately betrothed to your uncle, Aemond Targaryen. Alicent never wanted to betroth or marry someone from the same family after Aegon and Helaena but Otto convinced her to do so, even if they see it as a sin. Telling her that it would secure the hightower blood further down the line.

When Aemond was informed of this, he laughed, he was just thirteen back then, the idea of marrying someone that was just born seemed comical to him, especially when the babe was his elder sister's and elder brother's daughter, but he quickly accepted it, as he realised it was his duty.

Aegon however, was against it, calling you too young, but he was only sixteen at that time so his opinion was disregarded.

You were the oldest by an hour to your younger siblings, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera.

You were informed of your betrothal to your uncle when you were ten years old, that's when they deemed you old enough to understand what marriage and everything was. Aemond had turned twenty three that year, performing his duties as the prince of the realm, securing aegon's claim to the throne, claiming lands and power back to their hands successfully. At the end, Rhaenyra was successfully usurped, having lost way too much before she died at the hands of Aegon. And then came Aemond's march to Harrenhal, killing off every person that contained even a single droplet of the strong blood, except he spared one, Alys rivers, who he took as his war spoil and a bedmate.

He spent most of his time there with her in Harrenhal, burying himself deep inside of her, and other political matters, only returning to King's Landing when he was needed, just like now, but what he didn't expect was you. He was surprised to see you.

You were no more the gangly limbed child he knew you as and remembered you to be, your breasts and hips were fuller, your face having lost its childlike appearance as you were going through puberty, becoming more sharp and mature, having recently turned seventeen, You were becoming a woman now. You greeted him with a small smile. “Welcome back, Uncle.” you greeted him and he swallowed thickly, hoping you had not noticed how his breeches tightened as he got hard at the sight of you. Your beauty captured him.

“Niece, you've grown.” he comments, eyes shamelessly roaming over your breasts, which you weren't aware of, “You too Uncle, it has been a while since we properly saw each other.” you tell him and he hums, looking at the soft flush of your breasts pushing against the bodice, almost calling out to him to set them free, he fought with every urge to not do so.

It was when he spent some time with you, he realised he didn't know you at all, so he put in effort into knowing you, courting you properly which you were taken aback by, always knowing him to be distant towards you, but that was only because you were a child, you are a woman now, and he was a lot interested and willing to be with you.

It was on your eighteenth name day, which he attended, when he cut off multiple ladies tongues out for bad mouthing you, they had said mean things about you, calling you too old now, that nobody would be interested in marrying you if your betrothal to Aemond was called off, which was unsurprisingly a rumor circulating due to Aemond's involvement with Alys, his disinterest in you and your grandmother, Alicent, doing nothing to make the betrothal move forward. It had been a messy name day but it was also the moment you fell in love with your uncle, impressed by how he defended your honour and your name.

Aemond had to return to harrenhal as there were some pressing issues which needed to be taken care of, and he was less than enthusiastic about it, not even the thought of seeing his spoil made him excited. He was sitting on his chair doing the paperwork when Alys walked into the room, she sat on his lap and caressed his face, “What is it my love?” she cooed and he sighed heavily, not in the mood for her, “Get out.” he said, and Alys was heavily hurt by it, but left nonetheless. His mind was constantly on you, he remembers how your breasts pressed against his chest when you hugged him during your name day, and he immediately gets hard at the thought, that night, he finishes in his hand before cleaning himself up.

You had plagued his mind, cause he couldn't look at his lover nor bed her anymore because she isn't you, he was becoming more and more insatiable, tired of fucking his own hand, he was in need of a real cunt.

He stopped ordering silk green dresses for Alys and instead ordered dresses of material you would wear, the colour palette you dearly loved, and requested her to wear those instead, and do her hair up in a way you did, so he could at least pretend she was you when he fucked her, moaning your name loudly while being buried inside of her cunt. He knew he was being cruel to Alys, but he couldn't give a fuck, and Alys kept quiet, not wanting to anger him, knowing that he could kill her.

But it still wasn't enough, no, because it wasn't you.

Aemond was so delighted when he was called to the keep again, it means he got to see you, it was to discuss matters of the realm, and after what seems like hours, his mother finally changes the topic. Which catches his immediate attention.

“I think it is in our best interest if you marry aemond and y/n soon, maybe in a moons time, there have been various slanderous whispers about their betrothal, and i want to put an end to it.” Alicent says and Aemonds heart picks up it's pace at that. “It's better if we call off the betrothal.” Aegon's voice booms across the chambers. “I do not think it is necessary anymore, not after we have won the war. Rhaenyra is dead, the blacks are dead, my daughter shouldn't need to marry her uncle anymore.” Aegon reasons and Aemond clicks his tongue, “It is my duty brother, to keep our valyrian blood pure, I do not mind marrying my niece.” Aemond replies and Aegon sighs. “You need not perform your duty anymore, she is my daughter, and I do not wish her to be subjected to your cruelty, little brother.”

“My cruelty? What of your whoring?” Aemond grits his teeth, and Alicent visibly flinches at the mention but Aegon only laughs, “I have put it past me dear brother. You however, still are as merciless.” and Aemond scoffs.

“I want to marry her.” Aemond says, tone final, staring daggers at Aegon, and he just laughed. “Alright, Alright, it was merely a suggestion.” Aegon backs down which makes Aemond calm down. “The matter is settled then, the wedding will take place when the moon turns.” Alicent says and everyone nods.

Another moon to finally bed you? Gods be damned, he cannot wait that long.

So he didn't.

He snuck into your chambers that night, through the secret tunnels, he had expected you to be asleep but you were awake, sitting on the chaise, reading a book of some sort, but you didn't hear him enter your chambers, so you jumped when you heard him speak.

“Hello, Niece.” you snapped your head to the direction of the voice and were surprised to find Aemond.

“Uncle? What are you doing here” you asked and he just stalked towards you, “Mhm, is it wrong to see my future wife?” the word wife rolling off his tongue with such delicacy. “No- you misunderstand- i merely meant that–”

“What are you reading?” he asks, cutting you off and coming even more closer to you, he took the book from your hand and you stood up, feeling vulnerable when you were just sitting.

“A romance novel huh?” he asks and you nod, he would love to go through the content to tease you, but he had no interest in wasting his time, he came here with a purpose.

“Dear niece, we are to be wed in a moons time.” he says and you look at him, “Understood, Uncle.” his gaze was too intense, so you looked down in submission of a sort.

He felt his cock stir at that, the way your puffy lips were pouty, eyes darted to the ground, like a good obedient and innocent wife.

Oh seven hells how he wanted to ruin you.

And so he would.

You were surprised when Aemond threw the book on the chair before grabbing you by your arms and pushing you in the direction of your bed, he slammed his lips against yours in hunger, swiping your bottom lip with his tongue, you were frozen in shock before it finally clicked and you used all your strength to push him off.

“We-we shouldn't, we are yet to be man and wife.” you breathe heavily, hoping he'd understand but he doesn't. He pushes you down unto the bed before getting on top of you, you panic, “U-uncle- please.” you were scared.

You knew how dishonourable it is to lose your maidenhead before marriage, it will ruin your reputation, it did not matter whether the person who took it was soon to be your husband. It is a sin, and you were extremely protective over it. After all, your grandmother raised you to be protective of it, saying it is a woman's honour that should not be given carelessly.

“P-please uncle! You said we were to be wed in a Moon's time, then you can have me! Please!” you beg and he smirks, “No can do, niece. No way in seven hells am I waiting that long, not after I have suffered so much because of you.” he says, and before you can say something, he grabs your throat, choking you, “Shut the fuck up. I do not want to hear your pleas.” he says meanly before squeezing your neck tight, making you see stars and leaving your head feeling light as the blood supply to your brain was being cut off due to his ministrations.

“P-pl-ple-” you try to choke out, tears welling in your eyes until he finally lets go of your throat, causing you to gasp for air, the air entering your lungs so quickly making it painful.

Aemond takes the dagger from its holder and starts cutting, tearing up your nightgown, the sound of clothes tearing filling the chambers as you pleaded him to get off of you, how your virtue was an important thing to preserve, how embarrassing it would be if you did not bleed on your wedding night, but all of that fell deaf to his ears, his only mission was to fuck you.

Soon enough, you are completely bare, you crossed your arms across your chest to protect your dignity but he pulled them apart, pinning them to your sides, “Do not hide yourself from me.” he said, voice low, emitting a slow growl. You sobbed.

“P-please, I promise I won't resist or hide myself from you- just wait until our wedding night, I am begging-” he shuts you up by pushing his lips against yours, his hands leave yours before he starts undressing himself, undoing the clasps on his clothing, he pulled apart to completely rid himself of his clothes, feeling to suffocated.

He was very fit, lean muscles coating his body, defining and toning his arms, chest and thighs, you felt yourself clench at the sight of him so bare, you were beginning to get aroused.

Aemond leans and places gentle kisses on your face, before trailing down your neck to lick and bite at them, you felt a burning sensation when he bit too hard, causing you to yelp, he pulled back and looked at the bite in satisfaction, which was now drawing blood. You whimpered pathetically.

You didn't like the feeling of ache between your thighs.

Aemond leaned down once again to take one breast into his mouth, suckling on it like a hungry babe, causing you to gasp, your breasts were extra sensitive considering you were near your moons blood, you gripped his hair and tried to pull him away but, he bit down harshly onto to your nipple making you tug harder at his hair for the pain to subside, however the more you tried pulling him off, the harder his bit and latched on, the other hand painfully dug into the flesh of your other breast, nails biting through the skin, so you removed your grip on his hair, and only then did he stop his inflictions of pain on your tits, beginning to suckle at your nipple in a pleasurable way,

Your hand reflexively went to his hair again, but this time instead of trying to pull him, you held him there like that, arching your back when you felt his warm tongue tickle the bud, shoving more of your breast into his mouth, he hummed in satisfaction before he pulled away with a wet pop, to continue the same thing on your other breast.

It was sensual, it was so slow, and you were getting aroused by the minute but your fear of committing a grave sin still plagued your mind.

“A-aemond-” you say his name making him groan and pull away to look at you, “Gods, when you say my name like that- it makes me want to ruin you so fucking hard.” he confesses and you gulp, his hands part your thighs, exposing your core to him.

You try to clench them shut in reflex but he holds them apart, visibly drawn by it, you felt the cool air hit your clit making you shiver, he trails his hand down your inner thigh before rubbing small circles there, teasing you.

You whine, the ache beginning to get even more stronger, making you buck your hips, hoping his hand grazes over the sensitive part, but he just chuckles, “Greedy are we? What happened to waiting till marriage?” he mocks you and you fight back the tears of shame, he then presses his fingers right onto your core, parting the flesh and caressing your clit, you twitch at the foreign sensation.

His other hand leaves your thigh as well, and he uses both of his thumbs to hold the flesh covering your core apart before he leans down and sucks on your pearl, making you arch your back in pleasure, his tongue flickers over your bud constantly, sending sparks of pleasure.

You were shocked when he did that, how can someone put their mouth over there?

Your hips start to move on their own, trying to keep up with his rhythm, he groans at your attempts and pulls away, you whine at the lack of warmth, “Be still.” he says and descends onto your clit again, and you try really hard to be still but you couldn't help it, you grip his hair, shoving his face into your cunt to the point he was suffocating but it didn't matter to him, this would be the best way to die according to him.

You feel something creeping up at your core, a itch that keeps plaguing you, a certain type of string tightening constantly as he continued his actions, you were confused until you were snapped out of your own confusion by an overwhelming feeling of pleasure hitting your body, causing you to moan loudly into the chambers. Aemond drinks up your release like a dehydrated man before pulling away and looking at your face, he chuckles when he finds you looking confused and dazed, eyes teary, wondering what the feeling was.

“It's called a peak, my love, was it your first time?” he answers, staring at your face and you tilted your head in confusion.

Women can peak?

You knew how the act is performed, the cock goes into the cunt, and you're supposed to lay there taking it as your husband impregnates you. It was taught to you by your grandmother alicent, it was supposed to hurt, not feel intimate. If you're lucky, you'd get a few kisses on your face and neck.

But what aemond did was so foreign, you didn't know you could experience sexual pleasure like this.

“Y-yes, but i- i didn't know.” you blush while saying it, you don't need to finish the sentence before aemond caught on and Aemond almost moaned at the thought that you didn't know anything, that you probably thought that sexual pleasure can only be felt by a man.

Oh how he was going to show you all the ways.

Oh how he was going to corrupt you.

He smirked.

You looked up at him, the tears from the orgasm threatening to fall, and oh gods how that made him want to be extremely cruel, he wanted to ruin you. It set off his blood thirst, something he would only feel while fighting during battles, when he burnt the riverlands with vhagar, when he took the life of his own uncle, when he slaughtered the strong house watching as the blood coats the ground, the screams of men, women and children alike. He hadn't felt that in a while considering the war was long over.

And so he would.

His eyes trail over to the dagger that laid forgotten on the bed, and he reached out for it, changing his grip and pointing the blade at the direction of your body, you look at him in what seemed like fear but he didn't care, he brought the blade down gently, and then pressed it against your skin, piercing through the skin. You winced at the burning sensation, he removed the blade and watched as beads of blood poured out, he leaned down and licked it all up, the iron tasting sweet to him.

You whimpered in pain, feeling the twinge, when the wound was met with his saliva, causing an even more burning sensation to plague at your skin.

He pulled back and watched as the blood smeared onto the surrounding skin, the wound already trying to close up. He looked at your pained expression and decided that he wouldn't be that cruel and scar your body as much as he would've loved to since it was your first time with him, he needed to leave a good impression after all. When you're truly his wife, he'd ruin so much.

He watched as the tears fell down your face, he licked them up before pressing gentle kisses to your eyes. “Shh.. It's okay, I won't do more.” he says and you whimper, trusting him.

He pulls back and grabs his hard leaking cock. The tip all flushed pink, it looked so painful.

It was painful, he was so fucking hard the entire time, he was trying to savour everything before he fully went in, but he realised he had no such patience for that.

He lined it against your cunt, and slid his cock up and down, coating him in your juice before he caught the tight hole which wouldn't open at all, and he realised he needed to prepare more for you to be able to take him.

So he replaced his cock with his fingers, shoving one inside you slowly, feeling all the ridges of your inner walls, wishing it was his cock that was inside you.

He started pumping in and out, curling his fingers from time to time to graze over the rough part located inside you, and you felt your stomach tightening again, and before you could reach your peak, Aemond pulled his fingers out. “H-huh?” you looked at him confused and he smiled meanly before shoving his fingers once again, and making you come to the edge but never topple over it, pulling out every time you were so close. It made you frustrated.

He decided you were relaxed enough to take his cock, so he replaced his fingers with his cock, pushing the tip inside, making you grip your bedsheets underneath tightly.

He wanted to go slow, let you adjust to him, but it was way too much, he finally got to be inside you after what felt like way too long, these past few years he always dreamt of this moment, so he lost control and slammed himself fully inside you cruelly, pushing to the hilt, making you scream in pain, which he shushed you by cooing you and caressing your cheek.

Your legs twitched visibly, he pulled back, thinking he was taking his cock out, you relaxed but then he slammed into you, causing you yelp and then he started pulling and pushing over and over again, the pace messy at the first because your walls were still trying to adjust to him, sometimes even pushing him out.

But then as the continued thrusting, the pain slowly went away and you felt pleasure beginning to rise, causing you to relax around, and he moaned in pleasure when he felt you loosen up around him, not holding his cock in a tight grip that made it impossible to move without hurting you.

He fastened his pace, unable to hold himself back, he fucked into you brutally, breaking your maidenhead, he watched the sight of your maiden blood coating his dick leaking onto the white sheets below, and he moaned your name.

The chamber was filled with lewd noises, wet slapping sounds as his hips rammed against yours, his balls slapping at your ass as he thrusted in and out, sweat coating his eyebrow, he was grunting loudly, he wasn't usually a vocal person, but with you? you bought out the worst in him.

He felt his peak beginning to come, but he wanted you to peak first, so his hand went over to your clit and rubbed small circles over it, and the pleasure intensified for you, you peaked extremely hard, wet fluid gushing out of you, all because of the multiple denied orgasms finally catching up to you.

Aemond moaned as he watched your juice coating his cock, and he was reaching his peak too, “Fuck- fuck- going to fill you up, with my seed, watching you grow round with my child in your belly.” he babbled and reached his peak, his cock twitching inside you, shooting ropes after ropes of cum, coating your walls.

He didn't pull out, staying inside, making sure his seed didn't spill, he began to soften inside you.

He pulled and held you close to him, before he propped down on your bed, pulling you on top of him, his cock slipping from inside you at that, you laid on top of him, head on his chest as you listened to his fast heartbeat, it was relaxing for an odd reason.

He grabbed the sheets and threw them over both of you, covering you and himself and then slowly drifting off to sleep.

The maid couldn't have picked the worst time to enter the chamber in the morning, she usually entered without knocking since you and her were close, but she gasped when she found you stop aemond cuddled and then noticed the blood on the sheets, it didn't take a genius to figure out what went on, and she quickly reported it to the dowager queen.

Enraged was an understatement. Alicent was extremely disappointed, barging into the room, by then aemond had already put on his breeches and he was confused when he saw her, then he figured it out.

You woke up, gripping the sheets tightly to your chest as you watched your grandmother yell at her son, your uncle.

And just then your father barged in, along with your mother, she quickly rushed over to you to check if you were alright and looked at her younger brother in disappointment.

Aegon had never been angry like that in his life, he went straight for Aemond, tackling him to the ground, trying to hit him, “You ruined her! Couldn't your ass wait until the wedding? What was it that made you so impatient?” Aegon yelled at his brother, and Aemond dodged every hit Aegon threw his way.

“Fucking CUNT!” He was mad, and one of hits finally landed on Aemond, punching him right in the face.

“Father! No! Please.” you yelled, but he didn't listen and that's when you started sobbing loudly, which made him immediately halt and rush over to you. Aemond spit the blood that coated his mouth on the ground and got up.

“My dear.” Aegon looked at you sadly, noticing all the cruelty Aemond left on your body.

“The wedding is to be held in a week.” Alicent's voice booms the chambers

“Mother you cannot be serious! He-” the king tried to reason with her, but she looked at him with a stern expression and he backed down, he was the king yes, but he knew he would never stand a chance against his own mother.

Aemond simply smirked, accomplishing what he had wanted, Aegon glared at him.

“Please, I want to be alone.” you say and everyone looks at you, you were extremely tired and you didn't want this hassle.

The matter came to an end like that, you watched everyone leave reluctantly, except Aemond, you looked at Aemond, waiting for him to leave, but instead he sat down next to you and made himself comfortable in your presence.

Aegon grit his teeth, turning around to storm into the room but Alicent and Helaena held him back, and you didn't say anything else, but leaned your head on Aemonds shoulder.

That told everyone what you wanted and they soon left, you allowed yourself to get comfortable in his presence. Slowly falling asleep.

“My sweet girl.” you heard him coo before the sleep finally pulled you under.

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plutoswritingplanet · 9 months

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Taking What's Not Yours (Dracule Mihawk x Reader)

a/n: soooooo, there is this pirate warlooooord. basically, i've watched the live action show on Netflix and immediately had to commit a one shot.

Warnings: Pure Smut (i had to get it out of my system), Wall Donging, Use of Alcohol, Stealing, Plotting, Lollygagging, inappropriate use of that cunty cross necklace.

Summary: A misguided attempt at impressing your friend lands you in a very peculiar situation. (cross-posted on AO3)

The bar buzzed with the energy of drunken people. Your throat still burned with the after-taste of the cheapest rum the establishment had to offer, and for a second you've become deeply worried about losing your eyesight, as faint notes of straight methanol registers in your brain. Then, the pleasant buzz hits your nerves like a suffocating blanket, and in one moment you sense all your troubles drifting away. And there has been quite a lot of troubles on your mind lately.

Mainly, the Marines, their presence an annoying nuisance. By no means were you a pirate, no. You searched for freedom in different ways, such as stealing as much, and as often as you could. Money was the driving force of your life, but you'd be lying, if you said it was the only pleasure you seek. The thrill of the chase, of finding that perfect little trinket you can grab, and your victim would be non the wiser. The euphoria of creating distractions in one place, so you can strike like a viper in another. It made your blood boil with excitement incomparable to anything else.

On top of that, besides the occasional confrontation, the Marines simply couldn't identify you. All it took, was a bandana around the lower half of your face, and suddenly you were able to march into a bar, such as this, filled with Marines, and no one would notice. Your eyes fall onto a rather skinny one, the belt of his too big uniform is digging into his waist, betraying how little there actually is of him. He looks back at you, smiles, and joins a group of his friends at one of the tables. You reciprocate the smile with a glint in your eye. The poor bastard doesn't know it was you, who stole an antique photo of his grandma right from his breast pocket.

In your defense, the small frame was made of gold. And damned pretty at that. It fetched you a pretty price too, one you were currently drinking away, waiting for your friend to join you in your efforts of landing under the table by the end of the night.

You barely manage to go through one fourth of the bottle, when they arrive, smile on their face and hair wild from running through the streets. It all goes downhill from there, as stories and alcohol flow freely between the two of you. It's a welcomed distraction from the gray reality of life, a small ray of sunshine in this murky town. They tell you about the latest heist they've pulled, eyes sparkling in the dim light, as they recount a particularly risky part of their daring escape. You snort into your glass, shake your head.

- See, that's where we're different. - you counter, leaning back into your chair - For me, it's all about stealth. In and out, so they won't know when they've been robbed.

Your friend giggles to themselves. The drink in their glass splashes slightly, as they place it forcefully on the table.

- You really think you're that good, huh? - they challenge, and already, you can feel the tingling sensation of excitement at the tips of your fingers.

- I know so.

They furrow their brows, turning towards the crowd currently hounding the bartender. There's a mischievous smirk playing around on their lips, as they turn their attention back to you.

- So, if I were to choose any person here, and told you to steal from them unnoticed, you'd do it?

The absolute gall of this question. Of course, you would. Hell, you'd do it multiple times, until this whole bar was filled with people suddenly missing their belongings. Because nothing compared to the thrill of reaching into someone else's pocket unnoticed.

- You know what? - your eyes run across the gathered crowd, smirk playing around on your lips, as you've spotted your chosen victim. - See that guy in the black coat? The one with the big ass hat. I bet I can get that fancy necklace off of him, in like, three minutes tops.

As you speak, your friend follows your gaze through the Marines, and the pirates, and all the in-betweens. But when their eyes finally land on your target, they freeze in their spot, before rather rudely grabbing your shirt at the collar. Then, so fast, the world starts to spin in front of your eyes, they yank you under the table. Your stomach lurches with protest at the sudden movement. You give your friend a confused shake of your head.

- Do you have any idea, who you're talking about? - they whisper-yell, eyes wide and clearly terrified.

- What, about the hat guy?

Apparently you've said it too loud, because your friend nearly launches themselves at you.

- That's Dracule fucking Mihawk.

From the way they've said the man's name, you gather, it should be at least familiar to you. Unfortunately, you can't say you know much of the world outside of the town, so your confused expression deepens.

- He's like, the biggest deal - Your friend continues, their grip on your shirt loosening slightly - Like, children read stories about him and shit.

- I didn't - you shrug, before rising slightly up, so you can peek from above the table.

The hat man has turned his back to you, his stature rather impressing, as he towers over everyone in the establishment. Your eyes follow the dark lapels of his coat, thief senses greedily gliding over the handle of his sword secured to his back. It's reminiscent of a cross, with gigantic, shiny gems nearly tempting you to do something unwise. Your friend tugs you back down, and your chin scratches on the rough surface of the table.

- What is he, like, a missionary? - you ask, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

- What?

- You know, the cross and all that...

- What kind of missionaries have you been seeing?

Fair point, you think, before risking another peek, against your friend's efforts to pull you down.

The man, Mihawk, takes a long swing from a flagon filled with something you can't really identify. You watch almost greedily, as his Adam's apple moves, when he swallows his drink. Then, your eyes drift to the necklace, nestled on his exposed chest. Gold, real gold, you can see it from here. Another cross, albeit, much simpler, than what he had on his back. A week of drinks, and fancy ones at that flash before your eyes.

- Don't even think about it - your friend warns, finally giving up, and letting go of your shirt.

Your eyes stay fixated on your prize. If you could just see where the clasp of the necklace is...

- Think about what...? - your voice betrays you, and you wet your lips with your tongue in concentration.

- He'll kill you - your friend warns - Like, actually kill you. This is not a man you should fuck with.

At that, you finally tear away, your eyes meeting your friends, a sea of mischief swirling in them.

- Who said anything about fucking? - you say with a wink, and before your friend can say anything else, you rise from your seat.

Taking the half-empty bottle of rum in one, smooth movement, you begin to make your way towards the bar, adding a stumble and a drunken giggle for good measure. The previous ungodly ammounts of liquor circulating your body definitely help with the impression, but you're pleasantly surprised, that your head stays relatively clear. Although, if your target is truly as powerful and dangerous, as your friend makes him out to be, then perhaps you really lost your mind for good. Best not to dwell on it though.

The man barely spares you a glance, as you collide with the bar right next to him, arm brushing against his in a deliberate movement. You make sure to press your chest against the countertop, before waving at the bartender a bit too enthusiastically. The leftover liquor in your bottle sloshes out, landing straight onto the man's chest and lap. At that, he finally moves, annoyance clear in his rigid posture. Traces of liquid fall all the way from his collarbones to the belt buckle of his trousers.

The truly magnificent performance of a drunken, apologetic girl you gave at that moment, would ensure you the entry to the most prestigious acting schools. Your eyes widen comically, as you follow the trajectory of your drink. He barely flinches, as his entire front becomes covered in alcohol, but he does react, as soon as you start apologizing, a lot, your voice quivering as if you're about to burst out crying.

Don't look up, you remind yourself, as your body moves closer to his. You pull down the sleeve of your shirt and reach towards him, trying to dry some of the liquor off his skin. For the split second you manage to make contact, your heart nearly jumps out of your chest. He's incredibly warm, his skin pulled taut against prominent muscles. Then, your sleeve reaches the golden necklace.

His arm immediately shoots out, grabbing you by the wrist and nearly shoving you off. It was enough, though. That short moment of contact revealed more than you've bargained for.

- Leave - you truly flinch at the sound of his gravely voice, no acting needed - You've embarrassed yourself quite enough, woman.

Your head nods fervently, hair jumping around your face. He releases your wrist, and you mutter another string of "I'm so sorry, sir". Then, you throw in a sniffle, for good measure, but your treacherous eyes drift upwards, desperate to catch a glimpse of the man's face, as you're only inches from him. Yellow envelops you in an instant, a piercing, unrelenting gaze, which breaks through all your defenses. Your gaze hardens in an instant, challenge rising in your posture like its second nature. One of the man's prominent eyebrows shoot upwards ever so slightly, and you know it's your time to exit the stage.

So you bow your head again and slip past him as quickly, as you physically can. His golden gaze follows you, the feeling of his eyes at the back of your neck makes your shoulders tense. With a stumble, this one not rehearsed, you push past the gathered patrons, until you reach the doors to the restrooms, nearly falling through them, in your haste to remove yourself from this strange situation.

Your body collides with the row of basins, as you lean forward to try and catch your breath. Your heart is thrumming in your chest, the sound of blood rushing through your ears deafening. It's fear, you're aware. You've never been so close to being exposed, no one has ever seen straight through you, and so quickly at that. Chills run the length of your spine with such force you physically cringe.

And then, something else starts to brew in the pit of your stomach. Something that starts at the tips of your fingers, spreading upwards, until it settles in your chest. The magnetic pull of excitement, the danger of a new challenge. Your brain feels hot inside your skull, as you gather all the information you managed to pull out.

The necklace is heavy, but strangely, not as heavy, as solid gold would be. The clasp is sturdy, but small. You could feel it, with how the strap tightened, when you pulled at it. And one more thing. As you tried to "dry" it, the body of the necklace shifted slightly, so you could see the clasp peeking over the man's shoulder. You were almost entirely sure it was one of those old-timey ones. The one, where two halves fit together, incredibly easy to open.

God, you really are going to pull this off. You hype yourself up, in front of the mirror, jumping from leg to leg, like a sportsman ready to fight for their team. Easy. Quiet. In and out. You've done it a thousand times, why would this one be different? After this rather pathetic pep talk, you make up your mind. Splashing some water onto your face, you give yourself one last look in the mirror, determination filling your eyes to the brim.

And then, you're out, the door to the bathroom swings behind you, as you easily blend into the crowd of rowdy patrons. He's almost impossible to miss amongst the ruckus, with his straight posture and that damned hat. There is a plan forming in your head, as you stalk towards him. The unfortunate waiter, with a tray filled with tall beer glasses walks towards you, and with ease, you slide your leg to the side, making him trip right onto the floor.

It creates enough of a distraction for you to smoothly move behind your target, and as he looks over at the screaming crowd, you hand makes its way behind the collar of his coat. With the warmth of his skin just under your fingertips, you touch the clasp of the necklace. It unravels immediately, sliding off of his neck, where, just out of his vision, your other hand waits. The cross lands in your palm just as the man realizes what is happening.

His entire body jerks in your direction, large hands immediately flying towards the gigantic sword on his back. Thankfully, you're faster. Fingers squeeze around the smaller cross, and suddenly all pretense is gone, as you bolt back to the restrooms. You don't stop to check if the man is pursuing you, a flurry of emotions chasing you out of the establishment. Excitement, yes, of course, but mostly impossible to explain fear. In that moment you know, you can't get caught if you want your life to continue.

So, you barrel through the doors to the restroom and immediately jump onto one of the basins. Your hands make quick work opening the small window just below the ceiling, its lock coming undone under the prying of your lockpick. Night air floods the bathroom with the crisp smell of the harbour. Putting all your concentration into athletics, you jump through the small opening, squeezing through. Your shirt catches onto the lock and tears with the force of your body. You land on your face, right into the cobbled street below. Only then do you risk taking the time, and looking around, eyes scanning the dark, as your breath quickens.

Nothing. A dog is barking somewhere, and even from the outside you can hear the sounds of the patrons screaming over each other. For a split second you wonder, if one of the voices belongs to your target, but decide against it. He didn't seem the type to raise his voice. Perhaps that was one of the things, which unsettled you about him.

Tossing the necklace a couple of times in your hand, you observe as the gold shines in the light coming from the lanterns strung out around the city. There, right under the lower half of the cross, you could see a tiny groove. As if it was meant to be unscrewed or something of the sort. Deciding against hanging around in the ark alley right outside the bar, you put the necklace around your neck.

You manage to take about five steps, before some force grabs onto the back of your shirt. A hand twists itself into the torn material, and yanks you back so fast, and so hard, you completely loose balance. The brick wall of the lower part of the bar greets you with sharp pain, the impact knocking the wind out of your lungs. Stars swim in front of your eyes and your stomach twists and turns, as a sudden wave of nausea overcomes you.

Then, all you see is yellow.

He's here, arm pressed right under your chin with unwavering strength, his golden eyes bearing into you, watching you struggle against him. The smell of smoke, seawater and wine engulfs you whole, and suddenly the weight of the stolen necklace on your chest becomes unbearable. It's getting harder and harder to breathe. If you thought you were scared of the strange man before, now you're downright terrified.

- Not many people would dare to steal from me - his voice is steady, almost bored, but your ears pick up on the subtle tone of curiosity - Let alone do so successfully.

Perhaps it's the alcohol in your system, or perhaps your ego has grown much too big, but you almost feel as if the man is impressed.

- Tell me, what is your name? - his arm digs a bit further into your skin before retracting ever so slightly, not enough to choke you, but enough to remind you, that he could do so very easily.

Your tongue darts out to wet you lips, and you will yourself to sound even a fraction less scared than you truly felt.

- I'm nobody - you whisper fervently - I'm nothing. It was a stupid joke, I'm so sorry.

His eyes scan your face, taking in your disheveled hair, the way your eyebrows scrunch together, the way your lips tremble. His gaze slides further down to your panicked pulse running rampant, catching slightly at your heaving chest, before snapping back up. Freezing chills run up and down your body, and your legs kick out slightly, trying to find better footing, to regain some control over the situation. He gives you no such chance, as his arm pushes your neck further into the wall, and as your breath leaves you, your body starts to struggle.

- Nobody. Nothing. And yet you've managed to steal from me - something akin to subdued mirth flashes in his golden irises - If only for a moment.

His other hand rises and your heart stops in your chest, as you feel the tips of his fingers tracing the line of the necklace, from the juncture between your neck and your arm, sliding lower. There is no mistaking the small gasp leaving your lips, when he reaches the heavy cross nestled right on top of your breasts. He taps the goden piece once, twice, before grasping it firmly and giving it a hard yank. The clasp at the back digs painfully into your skin before it gives out, snapping and falling right into his hand.

- You're a curious little thief - his voice lowers, as he inclines his head to look at you closer - For that reason, I'll let you live, this one time. The world needs some chaos, after all.

You expect him to move away, give you space to breathe and disapear into the night. Yet, none of you make a move. Your body stays pinned to the wall, the bricks spreading cold throughout your back. He never retreats, standing firmly in his place, as his arm still presses itself into the crook of your neck. Finally, you risk enough to get a good look at him, from the silky black hair, the perfectly trimmed facial hair and the elegant dip of his collar bones. And, oh, his pupils are dilated. For the first time, you discover a change in his unrelenting gaze.

The gold retracts, giving way to the swallowing blackness of his pupil, as his eyebrows furrow in confusion at the situation at hand. You'd be confused too, if you didn't feel the tell-tale buzzing forming in your guts, low in your stomach. Your tongue darts out again, wetting your lips, and with undeniable satisfaction you watch his gaze flicker downwards.

- Is there something else you want? - his eyes snap back up at the husky tone of your voice, and you give him just a tiny ghost of a smirk.

He recoils immediately, albeit, never taking the arm off of your body.

- I am not some teenage boy who can't control his urges - he sounds almost offended, as he straightens himself, and fixes you with a stern glare.

Too bad. His previous slip-up has already filled your head with devious ideas, which in turn, sparked a sudden flame of confidence. So, with a self-assured smile, you lean back, finally finding your footing, only to raise one of your legs, purposefully running your calf the length of his thigh. His breath hitches ever so slightly, evident more by the movement of his Adam's apple, than any sound. Then, you reach your prize, your knee knocking into something that could only be described as a sizeable erection.

- My research says otherwise, sir. - you counter with a pointed look, and the man before you freezes in his spot.

Time seems to slow down and stretch like taffy, as the man continues to stare at you, thoughts running through his head. Oh, how much you'd give to know them all. Will he kill you, you wonder as your eyes dart around the small creases forming on his forehead. Will he kiss you, his lips are parted and invitingly plush. Will there be more, your eyes follow the lines of muscles exposed under his unbuttoned coat.

At first you don't even notice, when he had taken his arm back. That is until you feel him take a firm grab of the back of your head, gathering the roots of your hair in his grasp. There is no denying the choked whine that escapes you, as he cranes your head back, nor is there a point denying the groan he gives out at your reaction.

An unspoken understanding blooms between the two of you, both of you suddenly knowing exactly how this encounter will end. For your part, you were more than excited, breathing heavily, as your mind became foggy from the feeling of his fingers in your hair. And if his darkened eyes and slight blush dusting the highest points of his cheekbones were any indication, you seemed to have similar effect on the man.

- For all the research you seem to be doing - your brain feels hot and heavy in your skull, as you try to shift your focus onto his words, and not the way his lips curled into something akin of a smirk - There's one thing you didn't bother to check, did you?

All you can do is stare at him blankly. his other hand starts to toy with the necklace, turning it in his palm.

- Have you checked, if my necklace is made of gold? - he asks matter-of-factly, tilting his head to the side.

Your mouth opens and closes, no words coming out, as you continue to stare with growing confusion. Then, a glint of a golden cross catches your attention, as the man moves it higher for you to see.

- Did you check it? - he accentuates his words, and you shiver under his intense gaze.

You shake your head no, and your neck feels as if it's made of lead.

- Use your words, thief.

- No

You don't recognize your voice, so meek and small.

Then, all thoughts leave your head, because he lifts the lover tip of the cross and places it on top of your lower lip, pressing slightly, and watching with fascination as the cold metal creates a small indent in the plush flesh.

- Check it.

Again, your brain seems to be moving in slow motion, but when it catches on, a glint of mischief swirls in your eyes. You open your mouth, let the necklace land on your lower teeth, and then, craning your neck, you bite down, like a good thief that you are.

It's gold alright. Albeit, the part currently between your teeth seems to be hollowed out. Your brows knit for a second, as this new information registers in your mind. So you were right before, the small indent is meant to separate one piece of the necklace from the other.

With a slowly blooming smirk, you let your tongue dart out swirling over the metal. The man's eyes widen ever so slightly, and he pulls back at the necklace. With some fight, you let it go, but not before giving it another lick, this one much more suggestive and pointed.

- You're a devil of a woman - Mihawk breathes, before untangling his other hand from your hair.

Both hands now, he grips the necklace, and your mouth runs dry at the sight of his fingers smearing your saliva onto the metal. And then he pulls. Your heartbeat momentarily quickens, as your eyes register another form of metal glistening in the dim light.

A knife. Small but incredibly sharp, your body starts to shiver but it's not out of fear. He drops the other part of the necklace into his pocket, and gathers the front of your shirt into a tight grip. Your breath hitches, as you feel the tip of the knife slide up under your clothes. It scratches a path from your navel, up to your collarbones, and as the material bunches, the man suddenly yanks the blade upwards. Your entire body jumps from the wall, and your squeak of surprise is accompanied by the loud tearing of your shirt's material.

You fall back against the bricks, and Mihawk leans onto his heels as if he's appreciating an art piece.

- Now we match - you manage to breathe out.

He humms, deep in his chest, and as suddenly as he just tore your clothes off, he dives towards you, open mouth landing right between your breasts.

The moan he wretches from you would be embarrassing if you could only bring yourself to care. But you can't, not when his hot tongue traces patterns all across your stomach, stopping to swirl around each one of your nipples. Like a man starved, he drinks you in, hands pushing and pulling against your hips in a rythmn, that feels more and more like a promise of what's to come.

Your hands flail at your sides, desperate to find any sort of purchase. Fingernails scarpe against the bricked wall, as Mihawk's stubble tickles a path from your collar bones and up your throat, stopping for a moment, to give a few nips to the skin just below your ear. Another whine is wrenched from you, as the man places an open mouthed kiss to the scrape your previous encounter with the surface of the table has left on your skin. Then, finally, he pulls back for just a moment, drinking in the sight of your heaving chest and the redness which has engulfed your entire face.

- Beautiful - he concludes in the same, steady tone, as if he's stating an obvious fact, not paying a compliment.

It works on you all the same, and with a gasp, you lurch forward, your lips forcefully colliding with his. The kiss is deep and filled with passion you're not sure you've ever felt in your entire life. As his mouth and tongue work the insides of yours, you feel him slide his hand from your hips to the front, fingers pulling with urgency at the laces of your breeches. You can only pray, that there's no one taking a midnight stroll through the streets, as another loud moan escapes you. He does his best to swallow it, but something tells you he takes immense pride in the reactions you give him, as his efforts at keeping you quiet are haphazard at best.

Then, after finally winning the battle with your lacing, his hand pushes itself into your undergarments. Your head smacks back against the wall, when he begins to touch you where you need him the most. Expert fingers find your bundle of nerves in an instant, but before you get too carried away, one of your arms encircles his wrist.

Mihawk tilts his head, an unspoken question clear in his golden gaze.

- No time - you pant out, and for a moment worry, he doesn't quite register your words, with the way his focus shifts immediately to your swollen lips - No time, just... Just fuck me, Mihawk.

That seems to reach him just fine, because as soon as the words leave you, his arms shoot out towards his pants. He makes quick work of the massive belt buckle, and with impatient hands yanks his erection out of his underwear. You'd lie, if you said the view didn't worry you just a little bit. But excitement was your drug of choice, and right now you felt as if you could explode at any given moment. With shaky hands, you try to shimmy out of your pants. Seeing your rather clumsy efforts, Mihawk stops you.

With half-lidded eyes you watch him kneel down in front of you, gently pulling your breeches down, before lifting each of your feet, so you could step out of them.

- I think I like seeing you like this - you comment, as he leans forward to kiss the space under your right knee.

- The view from here is also quite spectacular - he counters, kissing up your thigh and making you gasp, as his stubble presses into the mound of flesh just below your stomach.

Still, there is no time, so you reach down towards his shoulder, and pull him up.

- Please - you whisper against his lips, and who is he, to deny a lady in need.

Lifting one of your legs in a tight grip, finally, his hips snap up, filling you to the brim. Your muscles tense, as you try to accommodate his size. To his credit, he stays still, face pressed into the crook of your neck, where you can feel his strained breath. Finally, you let yourself relax. tapping him on the shoulder, to let him know he can continue.

And continue he does, slowly at first, dragging your body from the wall every time he retracts, only to come back in with an agonizing pace. You don't really know who's more frustrated at that point, because as soon, as you try to wriggle your hips more, to force him to pick up the pace, all resolve seems to dissapear. His hand grips your thigh even harder, enough to leave a reminder for the later days. The other tangles itself into your hair, pulling at the strands. And then he truly puts in work, hips snapping in a punishing pace that makes your back scrape against the brick wall. You hide your face in his coat, inhaling his scent and praying that the thick material will be sufficient at muffling your moans of pleasure.

There's pressure, building steadily in your guts, and it doesn't take you long, to feel the band snap somewhere deep inside you. Your muscles tense and your eyes roll back, as you begin to shudder in his grasp, knees giving out completely, so only his own strength is saving you from colliding with the floor. Soon, he follows with a low grunt, nearly toppling over, when his own release hits him.

His arm holds you close to him, as he uses the other one to steady himself against the wall. Both of you are panting heavily, none of you ready to move just yet. You rest your cheek against his chest, and feel him press his face to the top of your head, inhaling your scent as if this wasn't just a quick dalliance in a dark alley.

- You should get back to your friend - Mihawk's voice is muffled by your hair - They must be dreading all the atrocities I could've bestowed upon you.

You laugh breathlessly, finally pushing him back and appreciating the flush on his cheeks, and the way his hair has flown out of place from under that impressive hat.

- Yes, those atrocities have been very great indeed.

***

Your friend sits alone at the same table you've left them. Their head is hidden in their hands, and three empty bottles litter the space before them. It seems they have already started to mourn your untimely death.

The inside of the bar has quieted down, as the closing hours began to loom over the patrons, a few stragglers still hanging around the bar, sowly finishing their respective drinks.

Unceremoniously, you sit down right in front of your friend, wincing ever so slightly at the discomfort still lingering in your muscles, kicking their leg under the table and watching them nearly jump out of their seat with fright.

- You... - their eyes have a difficulty focusing on your face, but when they do, it's like the heavens have opened before them. - You're alive!

Your eyes are glowing, and your face is still blushed from your previous encounter. You lean forward with a brilliant smile, hands slapping onto the wooden table.

- So - you can't help but laugh - About fucking with him...

#dracule mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader #one piece x reader #mihawk x reader #my writing #one piece live action #stuck between a wall and a hard pirate helloooo

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cinematicgf · 1 year

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Breaking the Girl~ 18+ dom!joel

Summary: as a casual photographer, you find the opportunity to go with your neglectful boyfriend to his hometown for the summer thrilling. Taking photos of his neighbors and friends whilst not blowing money on a huge vacation sounds perfect, a small job with his mum, neighborhood summer get-togethers and weekend beach trips accompanied by your trusty camera, why not?! But when a certain charming Southern man, known as your boyfriend’s old boss, enters the mix, you cant take your lens off the fine older man, and he cant seem to take it off you either.

Pairings: (no-outbreak) dom!joel miller x sub f!reader

Warnings and notes: 18+, smutty smutty smut, dom!joel and sub!f!reader, piv, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart, doll, darling), dirty talk, drinking, swearing, oral sex (f! receiving), arguments, age gap (reader is afab! in their early 20s and Joel in in his mid-early 50s), reader in uni, bit of a praise kink ngl, boyfriend being an asshole and Joel being just as charming as ever, reader has some cunty thoughts but good for her honestly, just pure unbridled filth with a semi developed backstory<3 no use of y/n

~ 7.2k (oops)

A/N: hi all<3 I wanna thank you guys for the support of my previous Joel fic, I appreciate it so much<3 this is just a string of pure filth with limited backstory. my inbox is open for requests as usual, your feedback is always welcome and if you enjoy this fic please like, comment and reblog<3

She was the girl Left alone Feeling the need To make me her home

I don't know what, when or why The twilight of love had arrived

Summer was approaching quick and with your exams out of the way and all the stress of the last few months, the final week of university seemed kinda pointless. Yet here you were in class, daydreaming about all the things you would get up to. Perhaps you could rent a sea-side batch and spend your warm afternoons in the ocean before settling down with a book and a bottle of wine for the evenings. Or maybe, you could blow your barista allowance and go to Florida for the sweltering months. Truth is, you didn’t have any plans for the summer, and with the days counting down much too fast to comprehend, you found yourself at a loss for what to do on your break. No matter what you did, however, you know your trusty camera would be tucked to your side, film loaded in and an extra pocket in your bag to store the developed photos. Photography had been a passion of yours for as long as you could remember. You had saved up birthday and Christmas money for years in order to afford a camera for yourself and you had never gone anywhere without it. Unfortunately, the impending doom of your hobby “having no jobs”, as your father put it, meant that you had to change your uni major. Although, you had been cheeky and added in a photography paper here and there, just to satisfy yourself and to no knowledge of your father.

The sound of a backpack being thrown down next to you made you retreat from your thoughts with a jump. Your boyfriend pushed himself into a seat next to you, “So babe”, he began; god, how many times had you told him you hated being called that. “I was thinking, for the summer, you could come back home with me?” he finished. You looked at him with a frown, the last thing you wanted to do was spend another summer cooped up in a small town like the one you grew up in, the one you visited every holidays, just to be wrapped in uncomfortably tight hugs from elders commenting on, “well well, I haven’t seen you since you were this big”, making their hand level with their knees, “look at how pretty you’ve gotten, you have your mothers eyes dear, you must be so proud of her”, they would always say, giving a warm smile to your father as he too looked at you with a grin, knowing how insane you must think these strangers were. You loved seeing your father on breaks, but c’mon, sometimes you yourself needed some time to yourself.

You contemplated his offer briefly, “Hmm I don’t kno—” “Cmon!” he insisted, unwarily cutting you off, “It’ll be great, we can stay in my parents sleep out, I’ll be working for one of my neighbors who I had a job with in high school, and I’ve already asked my mom if she can find some work for you around her office. On weekends we can walk to the beach and go to the mall and whatnot, c’mon babe, it’ll be fun”. Great, a summer working in an office and hanging out with your boyfriends’ rich parents, sounds… delightful. But truth is, you didn’t have anything else to do over the summer, and maybe this would be a way to relax without spending a boatload of your hard-earned money on a shitty trip. “Hmm... fine, you’ve convinced me”, you pretend to be annoyed about it. He smiles and gives you a quick peck on the cheek which you ignore. “It’ll be great, we can go up Saturday afternoon. First day of summer, the adults in the neighborhood usually throw a barbecue at Joel’s, the guy I’m working for. Yeah, it’s a little rowdy with drunk adults and a pool thrown into the mix but I always find myself actually having fun”. At this point you felt a little excitement creep through you. You arrive and immediately there’s a party, hell yeah. Who cares about drunk middle-aged people when at least there are free drinks. “I’m sure we will have a great time”, you force a smile as he gazes at you, “as long as I’m with you”, he replies earnestly before adding repulsively, “can you bring something hot to wear, like those little shorts- I wanna impress everyone in town that you’re mine”. You cringed at the sudden ruin of the mood and his claiming you as his. It sends a nauseous feeling straight to your stomach with a hint of rage.

Six months ago, you may have laughed and slapped him lightly on the shoulder, but truth is, you had been meaning to break things off with him for a couple of weeks now. His constant unawareness to vile comments and the fact that you were always treated as an accessory to him, as if you weren’t a person at all, had just brought you to your breaking point. Not to mention your friend Em, who dated his much kinder friend, had broken the news that him and a girl in another one of his classes had been fucking on the regular. This should’ve hurt, but truth be told, you two had been distant for months now. The only reason that you hadn’t broken it off sooner was the slamming of exam period, as you spend two weeks with your head buried in books, barely seeing anyone, including him (you had kinda forgot about him over that time, if you were honest with yourself, and, you know you weren’t supposed to say it, but it felt kinda nice, not having the responsibility of constantly thinking about a significant other). Remembering all the outliers in your relationship, you cursed yourself for saying yes to the trip and not just calling it quits to spend summer alone. Well, you guessed you wouldn’t be seeing him all that much, with both of you working and you could use the excuse you wanted to check out the town to get away for a bit. God, you felt like a major bitch, but still, it was a free trip. So, fuck it. Call it compensation for how neglectful he had been of your relationship.

The trip back to his hometown was draining. You couldn’t help but wish your boyfriend would just ease up on the constant chatter so the two of you could sit in comfortable silence with the music blaring instead. He told you all about his neighbors and his parents and you couldn’t help but find yourself intrigued by this Joel Miller character he was working for. Single parent, self-made wealthy contractor with a charm about him, or so your boyfriend complimented, as he told the story of how Joel had offered him a job in high school when times were tight through his parents’ divorce. “Listen okay, literally everyone in town swoons for him but I’ve never seen him with anyone, I don’t know, maybe he’s just not looking to settle down. I personally don’t see it, he’s just an old man”, he mentions offhandedly. You were a little nervous to meet him after the string of admiration by your boyfriend.

Once you had arrived and his stepfather and mother had showered you with acclimation (“My goodness Sammy, look at this gorgeous thing, how did you manage to lock her down”). Getting ready for the much-awaited barbecue, you settled for simple, as the humid evening approaching told you that anymore layers, and you would be drenched in sweat. You added some accessories, equipping yourself with your camera and extra film as you and your boyfriend headed across the road to, supposedly, Joel’s house.

Already there was a congregation of neighbors and friends, all gathered around a pool in the backyard, beers in hands, chatting enthusiastically with others they, presumably, were all familiar with. It was utterly suburban, the sight bemusing you slightly as you force away a smirk. Making your way across the lawn and through already intoxicated neighbors you find a full cooler, preparing yourself with a beer before observing the strangers. Your boyfriend had taken off to greet friendly faces, taking the opportunity, you fixate your lens to your eye to capturing the action.

A sweep of the back garden and a few shots later your lens focuses on a tall man leaning on a porch pillar. You can’t help but stare through the disguise of your camera. The cross of his tanned broad arms stretching his t shirt against his chest, making the expanse that much more noticeable. One hand jammed into his pocket, the other superlatively cradling a beer.

His patchy beard lined his structured jaw, squinting as he laughed, dimples inverting the sides of his mouth exquisitely. All these featured crafted the most handsome man you think you had ever laid eyes on. Pressing the shutter, you snap a photo of him mid-laugh as a neighbor entertained him. His admirable laugh carried across the garden, a melody to your ears, you can’t help but smile to yourself.

“Babe!” you boyfriend calls from across the lawn, cringing once more at the pet name, you wander across the garden after being summoned. “This here is Joel”. Your eyes meet the older man finally greeting the stranger who has piqued your interest the past few hours. He had a southern charm about him, and the closer you get, you can see how broad he really is. His muscles sculpted through his shirt, the veins in his arm mimicking those of Michelangelo's David. What the hell was your boyfriend talking about “just an old man”, you couldn’t take your eyes off him, allure and all.

“Ah, so this is she”, he envelopes your hand in his, his calloused palms connect more gently than you expected with your own young, soft padding. “I’m Joel”, he introduces himself, “I noticed you snapping photos over there”, his smile softens his features, you can’t help but mirror his beaming. “Speaking of”, you say, reaching into your pocket, you hand him the photo you had taken earlier; his attractive face radiating from the Polaroid, “Here”.

Taking it, he inspects it closely, you hold your breath, faintly, always nervous of reactions to your craft, no matter how friendly the gathering. A mesmerizing smile breaks out on his feature, “Probably the best photo taken of me ever. And that’s saying something”, he adds, grinning. “Its all yours”, you offer, watching him pocket the photo with pride.

Joel and you fall into conversation seamlessly. You tell of your uni and photography endeavors as Joel starts telling you about his contracting business. How he got it off the ground with the help of his brother, Tommy, who was lounging on a pool chair beside Joel’s daughter Sarah, who he mentioned with a sparkle of joy in his eye any proud father would have. “So, after Sarah’s mom left, I decided to get my shit togeth—”

“Holy shit”, your boyfriend interrupts. Joel raises his eyebrows in confusion, and you sigh in question, as you were enjoying talking to Joel, “Listen, my old high school buddies are having a boys night at theirs”, he raises up his phone, showing the brightened notification on the screen. You don’t bother to read it. “I gotta go babe, sorry. Ill see you later on tonight, okay?”, he gives you a quick kiss on the cheek, leaving you standing there speechless before weaving through the crowd of people in the back garden and leaving. You’re shocked, frankly. Sure, he’s been neglectful of you, but this was a new low. Ditching you at his neighbor’s party to go hang out with other people… you are truly dumbstruck. Tears of humiliation and pure anger burn on your lashes, threatening to leak down your face. You turn your attention to Joel leaning next to you, the same stunned expression accessorizing his features, brow slightly furrowed. “Well,”, he sighs after a beat, “that was a bit fucking rude. Sorry about th—“

“Excuse me”, it was your turn to interrupt him, as you fled from his domineering presence, frankly, embarrassed by your bastard of a boyfriend. Tears lighting a fire behind your eyes as your blood boiled.

“Fuck”, you took a look at the bottom of your empty beer bottle, heading over to the cooler. “Fuck!!”, you repeated to yourself upon opening the now empty chiller. Adults really did drink a lot huh, you thought, glaring daggers at the once full bin before wandering across the garden and inside the house.

You navigated the modern, utterly suburban house plan until you found a garage. Damn middle-aged men and their garages, you swear every dad you knew decorated their garage better than their own rooms. Thank god Joel was no different, because you knew there would be a fridge there filled with the good stuff. Once alone with your new full beverage, you let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. You were here, alone now, with people only he knew, did he expect you to just stand in the corner and drink by yourself, observing the party? Did he expect you to just go home? Honestly, the mere thought of it sent a rush of anger traversing up your spine. “Asshole”, you muttered to yourself, taking a swig of your stolen beer.

“Didn’t think pretty girls were thieves”, you heard a teasing voice behind you. You whipped your head around to make out Joel in the doorway of the garage, muscular arms tucked into his sides again, one supporting his almost empty beer. Had he… followed you? He uncrossed his ankles and made his way over to where you stood by the fridge.

“The door was open, arrest me officer”, you retort sarcastically, already over this whole shindig after being ditched by your boyfriend.

He chuckled lightly before noticing your peeved demeanor. “Ah”, he whispers to himself, “boyfriend troubles huh? More so, than the whole ordeal before hm, darling”. You glance at him through your lashes and roll your eyes, “You don’t know the half of it.” Sighing, he moved closer to you, his elbow caressing yours slightly, he looks down at you with an expression you cant quite make out, “All I can say is”, he begins, his voice low and gravelly, “if I had a pretty thing like you for myself, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight”.

Was he… making a move on you? You couldn’t tell. In your drunken state, you didn’t really care either, why not pursue it. Your boyfriend hadn’t touched you in months, the least Joel could say was no; so, fuck it, right?

You inch toward him, “and what would you do if you had me, Mr. Miller”, you coo, your voice tantalizing, wavering on a whisper as you gaze at him.

“Maybe one day I’ll get to show you”, he smirks. The two of you are unbelievably close, you can feel his breath fanning on your face and can smell his cologne. He is inundating your senses and you can’t get enough. You take the opportunity to weave your hands around his waist. He reaches an unbearably large hand up to your face and skims your cheekbone, his sizeable thumb halting on your bottom lip. You use the opportunity to take his finger into your mouth, suckling gently before releasing it with a soft kiss on the padding of his digit. You can feel him harden against you through his jeans.

“Fuckkkken hell”, he drawls, “temptress,” a darkness scintillates in his eyes.

A loud bang of a door close by followed by a whining, “Daddddddd”, has the both of you jumping apart as Sarah appears in view of the doorway. The young girl is rubbing her eyes, messy curls adorning her cute face. Slumping, she complains again, “Dad, I’m tired, can you tuck me in, please”. Joel gives her a warm smile, “I'll be right there baby girl, go get into bed okay, gimme a second”. She notices you for the first time, “I like your hair”, she grins, you cant help but smile at the young girl, “thank you honey, I like yours too”. With that, she disappears back through the door and up the stairs as Joel’s attention turns back to you, his former dark, eager look has returned.

“Come around tomorrow.” It’s not a question. Rather a demand. One hand engulfs your upper arm, giving it a light squeeze as he plants a soft kiss to your cheek, leaving you in the garage to comprehend the exciting conversation you had just had. Before he does, however, he stops in the doorway and turns back around to face you. “For the record, your boyfriend’s an asshole. Has been since high school.”, he gives you a grin but there’s a hint of concern behind his eyes. It was a shitty thing for your boyfriend to do and he understands that.

Your boyfriend had passed out on his parent’s couch when you left Joel’s house, so you made your way to the sleep out, thrilled to have some time alone to think about the events of the night. You couldn’t help but admit to yourself that the entire conversation with Joel felt good. Right, even; like Joel was actually trying to talk to you as any decent human being would. And maybe the bar was on the ground for your after your shitty relationship, but you didn’t feel guilty about wanting the older man. And he wanted you too. Maybe it’ll only be for a quick fuck, but it felt nice to be wanted. You thought about the conversation again before slipping a finger down through your wet folds, rubbing quick fast circles to the nub of your clit, exhaling soft moans. You imagined your hand wasn’t your own but Joel's.

The next day you woke up early. Your nerves shot as you take a shower, taking the opportunity of seeing Joel again to dress in lacy, barely there lingerie under your clothes (why you packed it… just in case, you supposed). If nothing happened between the two of you, or he admitted that perhaps he was drunk and just fucking around, then nobody would know your effort but you. However, if he did get to undress you, the choice to dress up would be an ideal one.

The door is open when you arrive, the summer entering uninvited through the hallway of the cozy home. Entering the doorway to the living room, you knock on the door frame, Joel appearing moments later behind you on the stairs. “Hi again, doll”, he greets you with a genuine smile, walking to the kitchen. Those dimples, carved by Donatello himself, you supposed. “You want something to drink?”, you nod as he leads the way past you. Handing you a dewy beer, you make your way to the couch to sit on the edge like a nervous child and admire the man in front of you. His t shirt tightening at the sleeves, barely able to fit over his muscular, slightly tanned arms. Jeans, ungodly tight around his crotch. You blush at the realization that you’re staring at him in all his glory. Your breath hitches as you focus your gaze on the skew of family photos dotted around the living me.

“Why’d you ask me over?” you come right out and question. In your drunken state last night, you didn’t care if it looked like you were coming onto him, if he said no, your intoxication dulled your embarrassment. But now, in your sober state, you needed to know, so as not to do just that. “I wanna take care of you”, he expressed nonchalantly, his focus occupied on finding a bottle opener. “And how do you presume to do that”, you continue, bemused by his confused expression lightening once he found what he was looking for, popping the cap before coming to sit next to you on the couch. He crossed his ankle over his knee, your eyes unfortunately for you, travel straight to the bulge in his jean. Perv, you curse to yourself. “Well, it just seems like your boyfriend isn’t doing a very good job, is he sweetheart?”. An exasperated sigh emits from your throat, your eyes roll unwillingly at the mention of your partner. You lean against the back of the couch, head resting on his forearm relaxing lazily behind you, as you take a sip from your bottle.

You realize you really do want him… badly. “Maybe I do need your help, Mr. Miller”, lolling your neck to look at him through your lashes, putting on a sad face whilst the hint of seduction in your breathy tone communicates everything to Joel.

He leans in and kisses you, gently at first. You deepen it, needing more of him as you moan into his mouth, giving him easy access to slide his tongue across your teeth. Tongue and teeth collide in a hot, messy kiss. His hand glides up your waist to your throat, where he cups your jaw with two giant fingers and squeezes gently. Quickly realizing you’re in the middle of the living room, gasping pulling away. “Shit, is Sarah home?”, you pant. “Friend’s house”, Joel says shortly, reconnecting your lips to his.

“Then, make me feel good Joel”, you coo, teeth running over his bottom lip. He exhales a low animistic groan, watching his eyes darken to a lust-filled gaze. “Yes ma’am”.

Next thing you know, he is walking you backwards to the spare bedroom downstairs. Both of you are so needy, you can’t even wait to make it upstairs to his own bed. The backs of your knees hit the mattress, he works at your panties, lips connecting with your throat, neck, collarbone, a symphony of needy groans accompany your pleasureful sighs quickly filling the empty space of the room. Slipping a calloused hand between your thighs, he begins working to collect your arousal, coating the tips of his fingers before slipping a digit into your cunt. You exhale a gasp, he swallows into a groan, “Fuck, doll,” he breathes softly, watching his finger pumping in and out of you, “does this pussy ever get this wet for your boyfriend?” He palms himself through his jeans, relieving some of his building tension. “No Joel”, you gasp, “not like it does for you”. Mascara gathers at your lashes as you squirm on his sheets. Joel’s touch fills you with ecstasy, but you still need more.

“Joel—” you whine, forcing yourself to meet his gaze, desire and devotion flooding his features, you follow his line of vision to the sight of his digit fucking you, then to your camera lying on his bedside table. You see the gears turning in his head, barely able to comprehend what he is up to before he grabs the camera, taking it in one large hand, positioning the base on his palm as he bends his fingers to the shutter button. You turn your head away in bliss, all you can focus on are his expert fingers rhythmically pumping in and out of you. “C'mon baby, you don’t need to be shy around me”. The camera looks miniature in his hand, the flash blinds you, snapping your pure pleasure, freezing it as a passionate moment in time. Joel holds the strap by his teeth, yanking the filthy portrait out, throwing it on the bedside table. Fuck, that just made you even wetter, if that was even possible. “Joel—ah- Joel” you continue to whimper, unworried about the physical evidence of your filthy endeavors due to your young, committed cunt clenching unwilling around his fingers by how good it feels.

“I know, sweetheart”, he whispers understandingly, “Just gotta warm you up a little longer, okay sweet girl”, he slips another digit between your walls. Your back arches against the mattress, head thrown back as a string of moans and whimpers tumble from your lips. Joel’s eyes darken into a hungry, heavy look with every squirm and curse that falls from your lips. Your eyebrows knit together in pleasure as his filthy words and his tantalizing, skillful fingers aid the coil in your stomach to release slowly. Joel, camera in hand, snaps two more of him fucking you with his fingers, discarding them on the table again. “Fuck, my own little cam girl”, he drawls in your ear, smirking, “we got four left, gotta use them wisely now”.

Joel abruptly pulls his fingers out, leaving you gasping for air, whining, as the bliss slowly fades, your arousal still hot and heavily in need of him like the air you breathe. He drags his jeans and boxers off, tossing them carelessly onto the floor by the bed. Taking in his girth, you understand why he had to warm you up first. You damn near moan at the sheer side of it as the slick from your pussy assists his thick fingers to pump himself a couple of times. He smirks at your needy expression. Cocky bastard, he knows he’s big too. Settling between your legs, his tip of his cock teases your entrance. You can feel his pre-cum mixing with your slick, creating an exquisite cocktail. Repetition falling from his lips in an unsteady gravelly tone as he coerces you to take ever inch of him inside your cunt, with a melody of “good girl” and “you’re doing so good for me, pretty baby”.

Joel slides inside you so easily, with how wet you are for him. A soft hiss, and then his features mold into a symphony of pleasure and hunger. His capable fingers tangle in your hair he glides his length in and out, painfully slow. You finally find your voice amongst the soft gasps and ah’s. “Joel— need more, please”, your voices emerges as a breathy whisper; making his features darken with craving. “I know baby, I know”, he coos, “you’re so full right now, aren’t you. That’s it sweet girl, you’re so good, taking every inch of me into that pretty little pussy”.

Your mind is whirling 100 miles per hour as he whispers filthy phrases in your ear, the promise to fuck you hard and slow being almost unbearable to comprehend. His thick cock stretches you out, rock hard, forcing your legs wide open as your ankles cross around his waist for support. It’s too much, fuck! After a few seconds of adjusting to this size, he pulls all the way out. You whine slightly at the loss of him inside you before he slams back into your cunt, filling you all the way before repeating again and again and again. The head of his thick, impressive length kisses your g spot like no other mans has before. All the while he has one large, veiny hand around your throat providing a slight bit of pressure, his thumb caresses your lips, opening them to slide a finger inside. You take the hint as a call back to last night at the party, slipping his fingers to the back of your throat and sucking on them. He groans out a string of profanities, eyes glued to you as you feel his cock twitch inside you at the image before him. You release his fingers, a string of spit still attaching you and him, he uses his thumb to spread it around your lips before dragging your chin down to open your mouth, pressing his lips to yours delicately. You can barely keep up with his kiss as he continues to slam into you at a rapid pace. You’re moaning out his name, a chorus of Joel, Joel Joel-, he smothers your whines with his lips. Rocking his hips up into you slowly, he brings his thumb down between the two of you, his calloused finger after years of contracting, makes contact with your clit, rubbing circles to your neglected nub. You push his hand away after your body jolts from the stimulation and he lets out a low chuckle. “You about to come, sweetheart?”, his voice is restrained and needy. You can feel your orgasm building inside of you, teasing you as the crescendo builds. You nod quickly. Squeezing your eyes shut, your moans begin to become rapid sighs on your tongue.

“Eyes on me, doll”, Joel demands, you open them to be met by the southern man, slamming his hips into you. Fuck he looks so good on top of you right now. A thin layer of sweat coats his forehead and chest, his hair messy, two curls decorating his forehead. You don’t think you’ve ever seen such a beautiful sight. He lifts himself up on his knees, grabbing the camera once more, he takes a selection of photos of you taking him deep into you. He thumbs lightly at your clit for a shot, before the film runs out, a satisfyingly dirty collection of photos to remember your time together by lying next to the both of you.

Your hips move together in conjunction. His hands weave around your back, pulling you into him as his lips attached to your breasts, he anchors his tantalizingly expert fingers into your hair, the plush of your ass, circling your waist— Joel holds you as close as physically possible, his muscular arms crush you, teeth grazing the nub of your breast. There’s a starving kind of desire laced into his kiss. Involuntary clenches of your cunt around his impossibly hard cock, and your fingernails digging into his shoulder blades, you slide your hands around his neck to hold yourself steady.

Then, he’s pulling away slightly, his hungry eyes watching his length pump in and out of you, as he plants a strong hand on your thigh, spreading you open to receive impossibly more of him. You are simply a toy at this point, as he dictates the sheer brutal pace of how he fucks you. “God, you look so beautiful, full of my cock, doll”. He moves his lips wetly up your throat, your head thrown back. He smiles against your mouth, you give him a shaky “mmm”, he ardently peaks your lips, releasing after each kiss to watch your cock-drunken expression, his name the only word you can attempt, like worship on the edge of your tongue. “Joel- Joel- Joel, mmm”, you stutter a praise for the captivated audience, who is relishing in the sound of your pleading gasps.

“I wanna see how appreciative you are for this cock, baby, keep your eyes on me”.

His voice is firm as his hardened hands caresses the length of your spine. You feel him flex inside you, his dominant gaze securing you as he speeds up, watching as your tits bounce with his rough strokes. “Ohmygod–Joel–”, the promise of your climax rapidly approaches, the ache undoes all the tension inside you, overtaking every inch of you, causing your thighs to squeeze him impossibly tighter.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Give it to me now, Darlin, you’re doing so good, come around me, doll”. The praise, the pet names, him inside you, all sends you over the edge. Your cunt starts to flood and shudder around him, your eyes rolling back into your head as you feel your orgasm release. You squeeze around Joel’s cock so tight; your lungs can only gasp out a mixture whines as you come around him. Joel continues to fuck you through your orgasm, its hard and fast to the point where you can feel another coil build inside you. He can feel it too, shifting your hips up slighting in a way that makes your mind blow, you nearly scream out at how good it feels. “That’s my good girl, I need another one, baby. You can give me another. That’s it, Yes, give it to me pretty girl”, his lips attach to a soft spot behind your ear, making you moan his name, your delicate hands rake through his hair. He pulls out for a brief second, flipping you onto your side as he lies behind you, sliding back inside you again. Its almost as if he never left, you’re so drunk off him fucking you that you can barely comprehend what is happening. Just that it feels so good, his hand weaves around you to play with your nipple, squeezing it slightly as his lips pepper kisses to your neck. he gently hooks your leg over his, stretching you open impossibly wider. “I wanna feel that pussy squeezeing me again, baby”. He continues lacing a string of filthy words into your ear while retreating back to his signature move when the two of you first started, pulling all the way out and slamming into you again.

“Lemme, feel you comin’ when I fill you up, good girl.”

Your second orgasm blinds you as you moan through your bliss. Joel’s gravely groans behind you sound like a melody. His warm breath in your ear and progressive sloppiness, encasing the room in leud noises, accompanied by his broken moans signals to you that he is close too. You turn you head to capture his lips as the aftershocks of your orgasm spark through you, your thighs twitching against his. He meets them brutally, and you know you’re going to be bruised inside and out when this is over. By the time he’s pumped you full of his cum and pulled out, it’s leaking down the inside of your thighs. You attempt to catch your breath, as his cock settles between the two of you on your lower back. You cant help but smile as he rubs lazy circles to your bare hip.

“Fucken hell, that was incredible”, he whispers, more so to himself than to you. “You are something else, doll”, he breathes, still catching his breath. You turn yourself around so that you’re half on top of him, throwing your leg over his so his cock is resting between your thighs. “You’re not so bad yourself”, you retort, smirking up at him.

“You know, you look so fucking pretty on top of me like that, darlin’. Next time, ill have to get a shot of you riding me”. Your heart jumps slightly at the promise of a next time, which he notices, following up his sentiment.

“Are you staying the whole summer”, he questions, his roaming hands worshiping your waist. “Sure am”, you respond hopefully. “Well then, I guess I’ll be seeing you soon”, he gives you a genuine smile, capturing your lips against lip for a delicate kiss, his patchy,lightly groomed beard scratching softly at your cupid’s bow.

You’re still unable to form a coherent sentence, as you feel his slick cocktailed with your own leaking out of your cunt. You slide off him, propping yourself up on a trembling elbow, watching Joel pull his jeans back up over his hips. “Until next time then”, he promises, gliding your panties up your still-weak legs, a wet patch already forming on the fabric. Aren’t you glad you decided to wear these. He hands you the photos and your camera as you attempt to dress yourself again, feeling weak and so empty without him already. Handing them to you, he slips one into his jean pocket with a cheeky comment. Walking you to the door, he kisses you deeply, his grey-flecked beard scratching your cheeks. After your goodbyes you can’t help but miss him. Hell, you’d only known the older man two days; still, you wanted his company more and more as the hours went by, so you reached for what he had given you to remember you by, “until next time”.

You stand in the sleep-out kitchen, admiring the Polaroid’s he had taken of you. You filter through them, blushing more at the sight of each one, dirtier than the last, too caught up to hear the door open. “Hey”, the familiar voice makes you jump. Your boyfriend, out of breath comes stalking through the door. You scramble to hide the photos, collecting them in a bundle, attempting to put them in your jean pocket. You force a smile at him as his eyes travel down to the photos in your hand. “From the party right, lemme take a look at those,” he says enthusiastically, closing the gap between the two of you as he reaches for them. “No”, you try to brush it off, “the lighting isn’t right, they didn’t turn out great, ya know, night shooting is a bitch”, you try to pull the photos further from his grasp, but he has a firm hold on them, yanking them slightly. You gasp as they flutter gracefully to the ground, face up, dropping to your knees to quickly pick them up but he’s already seen. “What the fuck”, he whispers, grabbing one and gazing it, a deep-rooted frown carved into his brow. It was you, mouth frozen in a pleasureful ‘ah’ as a peak of Joel entering you was seen at the bottom of the frame. “You wanna tell me what the fuck this is”, his voice was wavering on a yell.

You decided not to try to explain, “you wanna tell me about the girls you’ve been fucking these past few months, huh?”, you retort. “Everyone knows, everyone has told me to break up with you because of it, shit, you don’t even try to keep it a secret”. You voice is laced with venom, it was high time this discussion was happening, you just wished you had the courage to bring it up on your own, and not in this unwanted circumstance.

“Dont change the subject, who is he?”, he demands, his tone reaching shouting point. “Take a wild fucking guess. Do you need a hint? He stayed with me while you ditched my ass at your neighborhood party. While you humiliated me by just fucking leaving me there with strangers like the asshole you are.” You can feel rage-filled hot tears collecting at your lash line reminiscing about the event. “I know you’re going to try to break it off and think its your own doing but trust me, this”, you direct your finger between yourself and him, “this, has been over for a long time”. You push past him with force, grabbing your bag which you hadn’t even bothered to unpack, thank fuck, what a nice coincidence. You stomp toward the door.

“Fine”, he responds, “but as if he’s going to want you. He’s a middle-aged man with a kid, you were just a fuck”. It spirals you. You turn on your heels to look at him, he is frowning on the verge of tears (how many times had you been there before in his presence) and there’s a contortion of anger in his face, “At least he actually made me come”, you retorted hotly, walking out the door before you remember an extra detail. You pop your head back through the door to utter, “three times, actually”. And then you’re off. You ask his mother to drive you to the train station, explaining the split, briefly, and that you didn’t feel comfortable to stay. She insisted you did, kind lady, but didn’t pry into the details.

Once you had boarded and the train sped away from the dreaded events of the town, you felt relief course through you, no longer chained to that asshole. Sure, you know you should’ve done it sooner, and yeah, it wasn’t an ideal option what had happened, but this meant you could have some time to yourself this summer.

As you were back at square one, you daydreamed of the handful of friends who usually spent their summers on campus to call once you got back. Your phone screen lighting up with a ding, caught you off guard, the name causing your heart to skip a beat.

“It’s Joel. I heard the rundown from his mother, got your number in the process. Are you alright, doll?” he writes. You read it in his voice, subconsciously smiling at how his pet names aren't limited to face to face conversations.

You look at the bright screen in disbelief. He asked your exes mother for your number, meaning he wanted to stay in contact. Perhaps? One could only hope. You didn’t let your excitement get the better of you, however.

“Guess word travels fast. I’m fine, it should’ve happened sooner, honestly. I’m so sorry I got you involved”. You put your phone down, not expecting a reply after your apology. But the immediate ding had not only butterflies, but a whole zoo trampling around your stomach.

“If you’re going to be at your dorm over the summer, let me come visit sometime darling? Tommy offered to work more after your ex quit, so my plate is free”. He adds, much to your delight, “plus I think Sarah would love to see the campus.”

You smiled at the thought of showing the young girl around your college, she would be in awe of the library, you thought, remembering a glimpse of a large collection of books strewn across the table and shelf in the living room. You started to type a reply to Joel before another message comes through.

“and, for the record, those photos were hot, sweetheart”, he adds, a blush coloring your face, your gaze immediately drifting to the pocket of your bag where they lay, safe, sound, and where no one would be able to see, thank god.

“I suppose I could work something out, for you” you reply, a smiling creeping across your features before double texting, “you know, I have extra film in my dorm... for emergency”. Discarding your phone on the table in front of you, you watch the countryside melt into a blur, feeling the most relaxed and content you had in a while.

if you enjoy this fic please like, comment and reblog! your feedback is always appreciated<3 thank you for reading

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel x you #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel tlou #pedro pascal character fic #pedro pascal characters #the last of us hbo #the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x afab!reader #dom!joel miller #∘* ✧･ﾟ ➳ audie writes

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welcometothejianghu · 5 months

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Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 少年歌行/The Blood of Youth

The Blood of Youth is a 2022 live-action adaptation of the tale of a deposed, disabled, and incredibly cunty prince who's on his way back to settle the score with his asshole father, and the rag-tag band of weirdos he accumulates along the way, including Spear Girl, Bad Monk, and Fire Puppy (pictured above).

I hope you like shounen anime, because this is the most shounen anime something is allowed to be without actually being based on something running weekly in Shounen Jump. What if Nirvana in Fire were also Naruto? It would be the Blood of Youth.

This show is an underrated gem of action-packed fun that not nearly enough people in English-speaking fandom have seen. In an attempt to correct that -- and ahead of an announced second season and prequel in progress -- I'm here with five reasons you should try it out.

1. Zero thoughts head empty

You do not have to pay an enormous amount of attention to this show to understand what's going on. The show itself does not always know what's going on. It got distracted by a shiny object over there, and now we're all gearing up to go punch the shiny object. We'll get back to the main plot when we're done with the punching.

It has a million billion plot threads going on at any given moment. Bad guys roll in from sects you've never heard of before, using superpowers with stupid names, only to get kicked into next week. There's approximately eleventy thousand characters -- so many, in fact, that I ran into problems several times while making this rec post, because there aren't readily available photos of everyone I want to talk about. Just look at the DramaWiki cast list. See how it goes on for like fifty screens? That's a little what the show feels like.

Except I'm not saying that like it's a bad thing, because the show knows it's doing this, and it acts accordingly. It telegraphs pretty well who's important and who isn't (and then it goes out of its way to color-code the latter, which is handy). What you're left with is absolutely a manga-style plot, complete with training arcs and semi-relevant sidequests, all working up to the final boss match.

It is an extremely self-aware show. On multiple occasions, something would happen, I would crack a joke about it, and then a beat later the show itself would make the exact same joke. I wouldn't call it an outright comedy, but it's still very funny, and on purpose. It has no illusions about being some kind of profound, meaningful epic. Mostly it's just here for a good time.

Yet this lightheartedness is what makes the powerful emotional parts really powerful by contrast. The show is not stupid; it's just goofing around most of the time. When it knuckles down, it can be devastating. And you know what? It does wind up being profound and meaningful about some stuff. How about that.

So yeah, if you're up for something that bops merrily right along and only occasionally rips your heart out, here you go!

2. Putting the poly in polycule

Bisexuals, rejoice! It's representin' time!

Here you go, I made a relationship chart of about 40% of the show's potential and canonical ships. I could have included so many more, but I only had so much space on the image, so I had to leave out some amazing ones, like the sword hedgehog who's real into this one cougar who could easily wipe the floor with him, or the rich nerd who thinks he has a chance with the aforementioned hot butch, or the fancy MILF who cheated on the emperor with a dreamy jianghu man and is trying not to cheat on him again with a different, slightly less dreamy jianghu man. See? There's just so much.

I would also say these are not exclusive ships. They are extremely inclusive ships. I am a fan of most (though admittedly not all) of the pairings listed here, and in fact of many of the three-and-more-somes indicated by these lines. They're such a cuddle puddle of shared intense feelings that it's hard to imagine anyone getting more than mildly jealous. Moreover, the potential for romance does not get in the way of hetero friendships; a boy and a girl who are each dating other people can go do adventures together, and (mostly) nobody gets weird about it, which is nice. If anything, what makes the overall dynamic so polycule-like is how equally friends and love interests get treated, meaning that it's not difficult to see a lot of crossover potential between those two categories.

If you're like me, you're hesitant about canonical romance, especially when it's straight, mostly because so many straight love stories wind up being tiresome, gross, and/or skull-poundingly boring. You will then be pleasantly surprised by how the canon pairings with members of the main cast are not like this at all!

Xiao Se and Sikong Qianluo are the main textual romance, and golly gee, they're just cute as heck. As the chart above indicates, I like interpreting them as two Kinsey 6's who have found their single exceptions, Mulder-and-Scully-style. Maybe one of the best things about their relationship is that it gets sidelined all the time for the plot. They're not so busy being in love that they forget to get shit done. Then they get a bit of downtime and get to go on a date, and you're like, aww, those sweet gay disaster babies are gonna do a little bit of heterosexuality. Just precious.

Tang Lian and Fairy Rui are right up there with the cuteness. She's a sex-positive dancing beauty who wants to ride that pretty boy like she stole him, and he's a shy sword boy so tightly bottled up that he'll explode if he sees a bare ankle. Avoiding spoilers, I will simply say that this is a pairing of two relatively soft people, until a bad thing happens to one of them and the other hardens up about it. If that's your jam, they're here for you.

Lei Wujie and Ye Ruoye are probably the most magical and the most practical of the bunch. They have a beautiful, super-dreamy, really horny sword-dance meet-cute, complete with its own pop song ... and then that's it, they're basically just together. She likes him, he likes her, good for them. In-laws aside, it's a refreshingly low-drama situation. Besides, I always love it when the hypercompetent woman gets the sweet, devoted himbo who'd do anything for her. Ruoye's had a hard life, and she deserves someone who can dick her down good at night and make her a nourishing breakfast the next morning.

And then there is, of course, The Ship:

Xiao Se and Wuxin are canonical, textual soulmates. The show treats their dynamic as more important than any other. It's so important, in fact, that the show has to sideline Wuxin for huge parts of the drama, lest everything get too damn gay. They each get a boyfriend catch on the other. They both do fairly reckless things when the other is in trouble. They are the secret hidden happy ending to the series. They share the kind of ride-or-die relationship built on mutually being the hugest bitches in any given room. Whether or not you think this is romance, it is extremely romantic, and the series agrees as much as it can, all things considered.

And if none of those flavors of love float your boat? Well, have you considered ... eunuchs?

3. She likes e4e

So I'm on record as being real into eunuch characters, right? Well, if you're with me on that, you are in for a treat here, because these are some absolutely buck-wild eunuchs.

There's five main ones, and I can't even begin to scratch the surface of what's going there. Like, really, I don't even think I understood all of what was happening with them. They're kind of the bad guys, but then they're kind of the good guys, but then some of them are the bad guys, but then they're just working for the bad guys, but then they screw over the bad guys, and ... it's just a lot, okay? It's a lot, and it's all happening with this bunch of catty bitches.

Also, you would not believe the difficult time I had finding any images for this section. I guess for some reason, fandom isn't way into a bunch of canonically dickless color-coordinated middle-aged men in weird hats? Whatever, man, they are missing out. If, however, you have the good sense to be into the intense and complicated (semi-romantic??) relationships among colleagues who also professionally just happen to be missing their external genitalia, buddy, strap in (and maybe strap on, depending).

Don't let me oversell how much these guys are in the show. They're not. They're vaguely important at points throughout, and they become incredibly important near the end, but they're hardly main characters. They're mostly back at the palace, doing their various schemes and looking absolutely fantastic.

So if they're such a minor part of the story, why do they get their own selling point? Well, I think their presence is a good example of two specific things about the show:

Specific thing the first: It's so queer -- not gay, but queer. Thinking back to my last selling point, you will notice how many of those straight pairings may look normie on the outside, but once you get down to it are not playing by cishet rules. (For instance, I've seen a lot of people read Tang Lian's resistance to sexual advances as asexuality, which, sure!) Likewise, there are lots of incredibly important, intimate relationships that don't conform to standard romantic pair dynamics. Add to that a lot of bodies with unusual characteristics and conditions, and you've got the makings of plenty of delightful non-normative love stories.

Specific thing the second: There are so many things going on with so many side characters that there's a kink here for everyone. Don't care for eunuchs? How about slinky villains with mind-control powers? Devoted servants who would do anything for their masters? Former bad guys who owe life-debts to the good guys who saved them? Bonded pairs traipsing around the jianghu together? Sons nursing legitimate grudges against the men who killed their fathers? Alcoholic widowers with incredibly slutty necklines? Mysterious cross-dressers with unconvincing moustaches? Vengeful brides? Martial siblings? Murderous royals? Guilt-ridden half-siblings? Boring star-crossed lovers? All these and more! It's a smorgasbord of rarepair fuel!

Also, I just love these toxic drama queens. It's like if RuPaul's Drag Race had the authority to have you executed.

4. The most intriguing outfits I've ever seen in anything (and yes, I'm including Winter Begonia)

Time for a fashion show!

The asymmetrical fits, the detailed embroidery on everything, the brilliant colors -- everybody just looks so good. And yet everything still looks ... eh, I don't know if "practical" is the word I want, but at least wearable. Nobody's dragging ten-foot trains of fabric behind them or wrapped in eighty floofy layers of gauze (except Rui, but she's special). Their outfits are strange and elaborate, but they don't defy physics.

What's truly stunning is how often they get new outfits. Xiao Se alone changes clothes about once every other episode, and more if he's getting a flashback. He is the fashion plate of the whole series, and every look he serves is pitch-perfect.

They're not outright color-coded, but the main characters do have certain colors associated with them -- which is extra-fun when you watch those colors bleeding into their friends' clothes as their relationships get stronger. I also think -- and I'm willing to be proven wrong on this point, but I think I'm right -- that they recycle some characters' outfits into parts of other characters' outfits. On more than one occasion, I'd swear that Lei Wujie shows up wearing the left half of something Xiao Se was wearing a few episodes back (tailored to fit him, of course, because that dumb ponytail boy is tall).

Where I think the costume design gets massive points, though, is that the costumes are themselves adaptations.

Before the live-action series, there was a 2018 3D animated donghua. I have never watched the latter, but apparently the drama is intensely faithful to the animated visuals, to the point where some fights are shot-for-shot remakes.

Of course, you can do a lot more with unreal clothing and bodies in animation -- and you can show a lot more skin, at least according to Chinese content laws. The live-action costumers chose to preserve about as many of the appearance beats from the donghua as they could manage, while still accepting the limitations of real-life bodies and materials. You can see some side-by-side comparisons here. The live-action outfits manage to be instantly recognizable without being slavishly devoted recreating to their inspirations.

So if you're sick and tired of dreary, ill-lit shows with bland palettes, this vibrant, colorful drama may be just the thing for you. It's a rainbow from start to finish.

5. Actually a good central plot?

Despite all the wacky delightful shounen nonsense that this show has -- and it has a lot -- the core of the whole narrative, which is Xiao Se's story, is surprisingly great and cohesive.

The short version is this: Xiao Se used to be Xiao Chuhe, sixth prince and somewhat heir apparent. Then he and his jerk-ass dad had a falling-out that resulted in the prince's having his martial arts abilities all but taken from him. He's been living the life of a very well-dressed innkeeper for several years, trying to avoid all of that palace garbage. But now his jerk-ass dad is dying, which means that a lot of horrible decisions are finally having unfortunate consequences for everyone, and Xiao Se's got to get back in there to make sure everything does not go to shit and land someone terrible on the throne -- even if it has to mean taking it himself.

His central conflict is between what he used to be and what he's become. Does he miss being Xiao Chuhe, high-ranked martial artist and future emperor? Or is he happier being Xiao Se, long-suffering nobody who can barely run a business, much less hold his own in a fight? What would he be willing to do to get back what he's lost? What are his obligations to himself versus his obligations to everyone else? How much is he responsible for his father's bullshit? And why has he wound up having to babysit this stupid Fire Puppy?

It's okay, they're best friends now. Lei Wujie decided.

No spoilers, but I liked Xiao Se's ending a lot. I feel it's very true to the character and shows a real understanding of who he is and what he values. And really, at the end of the day, sometimes all you need for a happy ending is your girlfriend, your girlfriend's girlfriend, your girlfriend's girlfriend's boyfriend who's also your boyfriend, your other boyfriend, his girlfriend, and your long-distance for-real soulmate.

Feel like giving the youths a try?

You can find them on YouTube or on Viki. But be absolutely sure that no matter where you watch it, you make sure to go watch the epilogue as well. (And if you get real into the story, well, here's a link to information about all the other adaptations.)

You are also welcome for how I did not spend this post going off for five hundred years on how much I love Wuxin and his funky relationship to Buddhism. I figured that's way too niche of a selling point for most people, and might indeed have even been counterproductive. But know that I could have.

Also, I'm very happy about the announcement of a second season, because that's going to mean Liu Xueyi has to shave his head again, and he looks unbearably good with a shaved head.

Oh yeah, did I forget to mention the whole motorcycle photoshoot?

In case you hadn't noticed, the whole cast is stupidly hot. Hachi machi.

#the blood of youth #少年歌行 #bloody youths #i made this #rec post #the party is a polycule #LeiDHD

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sukioyakio · 21 days

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COWBOY!CHOSO

Artist of this beautiful art - here

PARING COWBOYCHOSO X FEMREADER

• ——————<________________>——————•

I swear I just saw this on twitter and I started to jump around my room. Do you guys SEE HOW THAT MEN IS,he is so cunty 😍😍

Anyway these are HEADCANONS😄

Cowboy sherif!Choso,who completely stays in the shadows of places and prefers to be alone,but ever since been accepted as a sheriff. He is absolutely serious about it and he just wants to make enough money for his little brother yuji.And so he become a sheriff for the better of the two of them.

But there’s come you,The outlaw of the west and his worst best nightmare. You always teasing him with every step of his life.And to be honest he doesn’t know why he can’t seem to put you down or find a way to get you to leave.

”well hello isn’t it the shadow blood of the west” You added a smirk and wink at him,as you were leaned against the wall of a dark alleyway that choso perhaps happened to there with his arrested person.Your wearing your long black coat that cover your appearance well enough,But it what beneath that makes you more attractive and elegant then the others outlaws.

Something that he see daily and gotten more annoyed used to. “Is my voice that low or your becoming deaf shadow blood?” Another tease out of your mouth.

He already knew who’s voice that was and instantly went to grab his gun to only stop after hearing your gun firing at him but purposely missed your shot.Landing at the wall that was infront of him. ”Now now,Mr Sheriff is that how you welcome your best friend” You replied in the quiet alleyway,You shadow casing over his view,He still hasn’t move his head yet.Staring at his prisoner with a annoyed look,Almost a deathly glare on top of that. It scared the poor prisoner. “What is it now (___),if it you coming to cut ties I'll be more then happy to put you into a jail cell” Choso stated as he now turns his head towards your attention with deadly glare. You were there for the guy,the prisoner that choso had,He had something that was so very precious to you. You held eye contact with him to only let out a small chuckle. “you see I kinda need that guy you got there,shadow blood.He has something special of mines” You said in a calm way walking slowly to him with your cowboy hat covering your faces and your boot being the only thing heard.From how quiet Choso and the prisoner was. Choso stared at you like you ask the dumbest thing ever. As he huff a sigh. You hips walk towards him with such ease and precision,The way your body should be a crime to see you in action or in your outfit of yours. “And what makes you think I be giving you Him to you.You know what if your give yourself to me I give whatever the hell he has” “Oh lord what happen to the sherif I know who will do anything that good huh?” ”Nothing about you is good,Your a outlaw and you have done nothing but trouble”

“Your right I’m just trouble,but if you gave me a chance to show you what else I could do that benefit- You were right infront of choso,knowing that he wouldn’t get his gun when your pistol in aim to his throat,As you pause and then continue your sentence. Whispering the other half in his ear. -not just me but your tense ass job” you said while lacing your famous smirk.Taking the cold gun off his throat. You were going to walk beside him to get the prisoner,His cold eyes aim at you with intense glare. ”your tricks won’t work on me “ he replied almost breathlessly.Refusing to give in your teasing.

As within second he reaches for his gun to only find it gone out of the pocket,And he aim to grab you and to put your hands behind your back but,Groans as he feel your hands against his chest with such force. ‘Fuck’ As he stands up and goes for you after seeing you grab whatever you got from the prisoner.You Starting to run out the alleyway as He quickly run behind you.He is going to put you in a jail cell no matter what. But See you jump on your horse riding it away from his reach.Hearing you laughing.And shouting at him. “Your such a Cute sheriff to have fun with.Shadow blood!!” He couldn’t get you out of his life no matter how much he tried.Your words have some affect to his cold heart.

Sheriffchoso,Who hates when people call him,his nickname ‘Shadow blood’.The name means His presence is as one of a shadow quiet but full of darkness and willingly to bring anyone to the ground even if means that he has to draw out blood.That why they call him shadow blood because most of the people he bring in have blood on themselves.But when it comes out your mouth he can’t help it but enjoy it,But doesn’t know that yet since he so focus on his job that he doesn’t have the time to notice that he like the way you roll it out of your mouth.

Sheriff!choso,Who says that he hates You but see you help give some poor kids some food,and make them smile,he face seem to form a smile without his brain thinking.And when he notices that he was smile he wipe it off his face and goes back with a stern face. It when you turn around to see who looking at you,just to see choso looking at you with stern face.Then your visit with the kids had to be quick as you disappeared into the alleys of the town.

Sheirff!Choso,Who Knows that you enjoy him chasing you down,Especially if your completely bored on days.On these occasions you’ll be rather flirty with him,even if it meant having a bloody injury cause by him.He can’t get you to shut up.he would tease in a nonchalant tone but he’s face would have a sly grin.

You had a gunshot wound in your stomach (that wasn’t a serious injury one but still made you choke blood out of your mouth)and blood siding down your mouth as you were on the ground and Choso on top of you holding your hands together with one hand and taking away your gun.As his other hand held his gun against your chin,making you completely helpless,well sort you still got your legs. Spitting out blood as you stare at choso with a smirk.Choso stares as you with an intense stern eyes. The red color fits you perfectly it makes him think that anything you do just look effortlessly good on you. “What Mr. Sheriff you liking the view your getting or the fact that your on top of me”You said with a light chuckle as your chest would start to fall up and down.As your heart beat against your chest,hoping that choso doesn’t hear your beating heart. You couldn’t help but enjoy the view of him,a few strands of his hair perfectly felled onto his face.As the moonlight hit perfectly on his face showing those dark brown eyes that you enjoy seeing.You weren’t even bother by the gun that was place on your chin.Maybe it the blood lost that take in place but you wanted nothing more to be underneath him.If you hadn’t known your size difference you do know now. “Are you seriously flirting with me right now.When your like this.” His raspy voice was clear as day to hear and his cologne clouded your mind,but in a good way. He mind we’re trying to trick him with voice that he doesn’t need to hear right now, ‘God she look so beautiful underneath me,under the moonlight’. He was sweating due to chasing you down the whole way.He was out of breath his chest moving up and down to gain so sort of air. “What the problem choso?You seem to like it,and what taking you so long to tie me up and take me to your pretty little jail cell” “Oh don’t worry I Will bring to my jail cell, and then finally you won’t be making any joke once you’re there.” He added with a huff of a laugh and a grin.That a new expression you never seen but it look damn god on him that for sure. You only noticed that he loosen his grip on your hands. When he heard you saying his name he could hear his heart beating against his chest. You just chuckle at his grin,You wonder how the hell that this man doesn’t have anyone. As choso body was up top of your stomach and ready to get his handcuffs,you acted quickly.Warping your legs his torso And flipping him over to the ground and getting your hands free of his grip.Now your on top of him like that,You wouldn’t believe how much fun you would have with choso underneath. But you had to go quickly to clean this wound before it got worse.You choke out more blood by chuckling at the positions switch. “Sorry Mr sheriff but I can’t let our cat and mice game go down that quickly.” You said as you quickly grab your gun and run away from him before shouting. “If no body Told you this,you Damn good sir!”With a laughter and the sound of horse galloping away was heard. Choso one needed to have a breather after all this.One he couldn’t let the picture of you underneath him with a smile and two the other is that he needed to slap himself because he had you right in his palm and now your whatever the hell your at. ‘The color red fit you’ he thought without hesitation and thinking about what he came up. He soon got up and started looking for his horse and then went back to his house.

Sheriff!choso,who was alright until he went to work to only get news that he will be having a assistant.Being his little brother.It was just a easy assignment.But it seems like he can’t get you away from you.

It just a normal day until he comes to work having some news that he would have an assistant with him today. He didn’t expect it to be his little brother,I mean yea he did,he knew that yuji was training to be a sheriff like him.But he would be mad at him,but couldn’t not when yuji look very adorable in his outfit.And with his proud smile,Choso was already melting at how cute his little brother is. Today was just him and yuji going around the town,Making sure that peace is ok,and then right next to the house.There were gun shots. Choso and yuji went on top of his house and headed towards the store.They made it to the store to see that the front glass are broken and most of the items there were scatter on the ground. Choso got off his horse,soon followed yuji walking right next him.They were looking and saying if everyone is alright.Calmimg down the citizens.One of them yelling at yuji blaming him for not being to early to stop this.And that one of them being the owner of the store. ”It Your Fucking Fault For Letting That Motherfucker do this!!” “I’m sorry sir for not being early here in time,but I gonna-” ”I Don’t NEED YOUR Pity,God are you stupid,I need you to GO GET THAT FUCKER!!!”The owner spitting out of his anger at yuji.As He kept trying to calm the owner down.The owner face turning more red then ever as he walked more closer to yuji. Choso could hear the commotion from the other side of the store,and instantly walked towards yuji worried about him.Choso was busy asking citizens of what there and how that happened. “WHAT taking you so fucking long,ARENT you A Sheriff!DO SOMETHING STUIPD SHIT!!” ”Please sir,lower your voice down,I completely understand that your angry but it’s- the owner raise his hand aim to slap yuji face,but someone else stopped him from getting a hit.Griping it with such force.That made the owner wince in pain. ”Woah,you really must haven’t heard of ‘Kepping your hand to yourself’ at all” You stated in a calm voice but your face was everything of the opposite.You other hand laid on your hips as you glare at the owner. Yuji was looking at you with a big eyes,he was so amazed by how fast you acted.And scared at the same time by your expression lance on your face. ”You were seriously going to harm the kid just because of your stupid store got destroyed that wasn’t even his fault” You said with a disbelief tone.Looking at the owner. Choso finally made it and stop as he see you holding the owner hand in place.One he was shook to see you in broad daylight in some casual clothes. And looking at the owner with annoyance.And then he see what was going on. Right before he was able to stop the commotion,because a crowd of people were looking at you guys. ”Let go hand bitch” The owner bites back. “Ok I’ll will after you say sorry to the kid that was trying to do his job” “It ok Ma’am,hehe” Yuji said with a sly smile and some blush on his cheeks.Being an embarrassed by someone like you. “What happened Here,and what is the commotion for” Choso calm yet stern voice being heard was able for you to stop gripping the owner hand,as choso appears next to you guys.You just crossed your arms. ”Ok first I’m sorry oni Chan for not being next to you,and secondly i was trying to get information from the owner but almost got hit in face but thanks to the very gorgeous beautiful lady that stop it and then that it” Yuji explained with exaggeration that it made you laugh at the cute fact.But quickly stop as you heard yuji said brother. ‘WAIT what this kid is Choso brother’ You look at choso with a big smile,knowing that he knows how your face looks by now. Choso grumble something underneath his breath. It only took a few minutes for choso to get everyone to clam down and to make sure that they’re out the building for the other sheriff to come there. Meaning that it take time for the sheriff to come he see you and yuji talking.He see how yuji eyes go wide open with such excitement and amusement. As if yuji could sense him walking towards you guys he shouts at him. “ONI CHAN WE’RE HERE!”

You just chuckled at yuji tactics.As now choso is there in front of you guys.

”So why you never told me about your adorable brother”

“One it doesn’t matter on why I didn’t”

”Oh come don’t be such a shadow”

“WAit! Choso you know her?!?” “…. No. . “

“Yes he does know me I mean I’m not that hard to notice,he’s just shy”

“No I’m not shy” “How did you guys meet!?Did you guys used to be friends in the sheriff department before or something”

“Well it started at-You were soon shut off as choso cover your mouth,and walking off saying he need to talk in private alone with you.You wave off yuji.As your long *color hair* got in the way of your view.

In short He kept asking question about what and why were you doing there and were you the one who destroyed the store in which you answered truthfully. after that you tease him with his brother. He couldn’t bring you down.

Sheriff!choso who is absolutely in denial and doesn’t know what these feelings are.When he in shared apartment with his brother.When he closes his eyes he has a image of you smirking at you,it was like a perfect picture of you. almost everywhere he goes he remember something about,let it be your hair color or eyes that know how to keep him at night or your favoritve color.He honestly think he going insane and that he just need to reesure that he is a sheriff and your just a outlaw

Sheriffchoso who is suddenly try’s to understand why you decided to become an outlaw.He try’s to comfort you,wanting you to trust him.

sheriff choso, who at night bring a snack with him,knowing that you would meet him.As He silence-ly pass you that snack.Making sure your alright.

SheriffChoso, who realizes that he actually enjoys your company more then anything,he look forward to seeing you smile.To tease him,to make joke about whatever he does.He actually feels like himself around you.

SheriffChoso, Who hates to admit that he doesn’t like seeing you with bruises or having marks on your body.But the hates the most is that you try to hide it from him,and that give him the most piss off look ever.

Sheriff!Choso, who tells you repeatedly that you have to stop this game,that it not worth it.He says that to you because your infecting his mind,and he thinks that it better if you become a normal citizen before someone other sheriff actually get you. He thinks if you do that he doesn’t have to imagine the worst.He can’t admit that you have a piece of his heart with your smile.

SheriffChoso who is inlove with you and knows that your an outlaw.Something he should put in a cage but can’t help to do.

Sheriffchoso,Who grabs your gun with one hand and the other he grabs you chin with a light tug,and bring his lips on top of your.Leaving afterwards.leaving you shock and flustered.

THAT ALL I HAVE I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY IT

Save a HORSE RIDE what-!!!!!

🫶

Don’t copy or paste my work

FOR SOME REASON IT WONT ALLOW ME TO EDITED IT URGHH😭😭😭

#jujutsu choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso x reader #choso kamo #jjk choso #choso kamo x reader #kamo choso smut #choso x reader smut #kamo choso

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st-alastors-confessional · 3 months

Text

Sinners, rejoice!

Exhaultation awaits.

Gather to the fold, turn your gaze from sin, and rid yourself of impurity.

I invite you, dear Sinner, to feast upon my gospel. Join me in the Confessional and expel your truest, darkest desires, so that I may lift you out from the pits of temptation.

Come unto Me.

St. Alastor

Hey 👋🏽

NB | They/Them | 26yo

So, I post that Good Gay Shit and y’all throw unadulterated thoughts, headcanons, and whatnot into my asks.

That’s it.

[Doesn't have to be filth, but it's always welcomed.]

TAG KEY

#Forgiven: Confessions

#Anon Shares: Whatever doesn’t fit as a Confession

#Admin Confessions: My shit posts

I'll roleplay a "Holier Than Thou" Alastor when answering asks. (Don’t get me wrong, he’s still a demon- it’s just that the outfits make him feel ✨cunty✨)

RadioApple is very very very welcomed here, but honestly- if it Gays, it Stays (just don't be weird about it yall, check the Hard NOs list before sending pls)

HARD NOs

• Sexual assault

• Incest

• Pedophilia

• Racism (Remember and respect that Alastor is a Creole man)

• Homophobia

• Transphobia

• Beastiality

You will be BLOCKED if I get even a WHIFF of this shit.

If you somehow missed it in my bio:

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

I will not interact with asks from ageless blogs.

Also, please don't come here to lecture me or anyone else on this blog about real world religion. I've done my time, and had my fill.

Now I write fanfiction about boys topless, oiled up, kissing each other probably.

This blog is just for fun- have a go!

Which brings me to my final point: I will also casually filth dump on here if and when the spirit moves me.

Man's gotta scrub their brain of Unholy Shit too.

Anyways, welcome to the Confessional and enjoy your time here x

I look forward to speaking with you.

~ Quick addition! ~

Because this has happened quite a few times already, I’d like to make it clear:

Please DO NOT send real world shit into my asks. I won’t interact with people’s real life trauma.

It’s a huge mental and emotional load for me to answer heavy shit, plus vicarious trauma exists, and that’s not the goal of this blog.

Keep it fun, y’all ❤️

If you need help, please seek your local GP or mental health professional, or reach out to friends and family. There is no shame or harm in doing so. We all need help, it’s part of being human x

Thanks again, my dears.

- Admin

#St Alastors Confessional #Alastor #The Radio Demon #Hazbin Hotel #Hazbin Hotel RP #Nun Alastor #RadioApple #Lucifer #Charlie #Vaggie #Angel Dust #Husk #Nifty #Sir Pentris

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bit-dodgy-innit · 2 years

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Family Affair

Part of my 500 Follower Celebration set in The Shape of Youniverse

The Prompt: Jake wins a bet between the boys, so he gets to grow a mustache, which means your family’s first group Halloween costume is The Addams Family

Requested by: @pleasehidemyficshit

Pairing: Jake x afab!reader, background Steven x afab!reader and Marc x afab!reader, Reader is married to the system

Spice-o-meter: 🌶🌶🌶🌶, Explicit, Minors DNI!

Word Count: 3.2k

CW/TW: We’ve earned all four peppers here friends - obviously Jake has a mustache and looks too good with it, there’s talk about sharing D.I.D. with loved ones, groping, a touch of roleplaying and spanking, f!receiving oral, destruction of clothing, breastplay, lactation kink, and titty-fucking (it’s back!)

A/N: Y’all I started writing this before Halloween and wanted to have it for everyone by then... but shit’s been crazy on my end. I’m behind in asks and responses but it was in an effort to get this out and honestly to keep my head above water! Hope this fic and the filth below is entirely worth and thank you all, especially my darling requester, for patience with me! Spanish translations at ze bottom of ze fic!

“Damn babes, never thought I’d say it, but Jake can pull off a mustache,” Charlotte mused while the pair of you stood in her reception room, currently decorated for a spooky, but not scary, Halloween party.

You immediately shushed her. “Stop that! What if he hears you?”

She threw her hands up in surrender, yet didn’t appear at all contrite. Charlotte and Harry’s place was palatial by most Londoners’ standards, but sound could carry from one end of the room to the other rather easily. “Here, come with me to the loo, I need help with my wig anyway. We’ll talk about it there.”

This Halloween, your first as a mother, was quite different from previous ones. The last year you had been too queasy to go out, and the year before that, you and your husband had been out all night hopping between various pubs and parties. While your couples costume, Hugh Hefner and a Playboy bunny, was admittedly and totally misogynistic, it had led to the night culminating in some rather fantastic sex just as the sun’s rays began to kiss the horizon. Plus, Jake called you “conejita” now sometimes in bed which never failed to make you shiver.

Tonight was the diametric opposite. You had to be home 9:30 sharp so as not to completely fuck Nyla’s sleep schedule, you and your husband hadn’t so much as seen each other’s genitals in days, and your family was attending precisely one fête, this one at Charlotte’s house. She and Harry had welcomed a daughter of their own, Abigail, a few months before Nyla was born. Their low-key house party was the perfect festive, baby-friendly occasion for the holiday. Come to think of it, your previous costume and activities were a rather fitting way to send off your pre-baby body and persona.

“This is lovely by the way,” you told Charlotte, crowding into her downstairs loo with her. “I can’t believe you were able to clean and decorate this place while Abby is teething.”

“Thank you,” she replied, genuinely touched at the comment while she helped you to recenter the part on the long, black haired wig you’d donned for the evening. “Honestly, I have no worries about going back to work for my MP now, the House of Commons is a cakewalk compared to the chaos it took to get this house together today.”

You laughed, the truth of her sentiment resonating with you. Even if you didn’t work in government, everything else was a breeze after having a baby.

“Though I must say, it’s a bit cunty for my best mate to show up looking as good as you do tonight,” Charlotte teased, “If I hadn’t seen you pregnant myself, I’d doubt you even carried Nyla.”

“HA!” You squawked in disbelief, “either you’re already pissed or need to get your eyes checked. Besides, black is a very forgiving color.”

Though Halloween with a baby meant no more all-nighters and fuckfests, it did mean something else that was arguably just as exciting: family costumes. Given that earlier in the month Jake had won a contest between him and his alters on who could change Nyla’s diaper the quickest, he was currently sporting a mustache. You weren’t exactly chuffed about its presence on your husband's face, but it did inspire you to make everyone dress up as the Addams Family. You’d ordered a darling little Peter Pan-collared black dress for Nyla as well as a crocheted hat with braids, a slinky (and apparently very forgiving) long black dress and wig for yourself, then a pinstripe suit for the boys.

You didn’t know why it had never occurred to you before, but your husband, specifically Jake who was fronting tonight, made a perfect Gomez Addams. While you needed a full face of makeup and wig to recreate Morticia’s look, all Jake needed to do was slick back his hair and trim his mustache. He had surprised you in the midst of your process mimicking Morticia’s winged eyeliner by asking you for some eye makeup of his own for the evening.

You were all too happy to oblige his request. Nyla was napping, you were almost done, and it made you endlessly happy that your husband got into the Halloween spirit as much as you did. Jake sat on the closed lid of the toilet while you straddled him to apply the kohl. To his credit, he stayed still for the most part while you drew and smudged the black pigment onto the delicate skin of his lids. It was remarkably intimate, given the closeness and the vulnerability the act required.

However, this was Jake, so right as you finished he growled “Nena”, then pulled you into his lap to feel the hardness swiftly growing there.

“Absolutely not,” you protested, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. “I have worked too hard on this makeup, plus Nyla let me dress her without any fuss, so no.”

“Pero nena, este vestido,” your husband whined, canting his hips against your core. “What am I supposed to do when it frames your tetas so perfectly?”

“Luego,” you declared, your dismissal as harsh and final as a judge’s.

Jake’s resulting pout was downright comical. Yet, it was worth delaying nookie in your opinion for getting to Charlotte’s at a reasonable time and getting family photos before Nyla inevitably rebelled on her braid-cap thingy.

“Alright but Jake,” Charlotte circled back now that your wig was sorted.

“Jake,” you echoed, switching spots in front of the mirror so Charlotte could touch up her witch makeup. “Well I told you he strong-armed me into letting him grow one, and it must be the Latino blood and you know…energy that means he can pull it off. I can’t let him think that though, because he’ll never shave it.”

“What do the other two think about it?”

Charlotte and Harry were two members of the small circle of people who knew about your husband’s D.I.D. You’d been friends with her for years before you met Marc, and it didn’t occur to you to share his condition with Charlotte until you learned that her mother-in-law also had D.I.D. It brought you both all that much closer since you each had someone safe and knowledgeable to talk about it with, plus Harry was a reassuring example of someone who had been living with and loving someone with D.I.D his entire life.

“They’re not pleased because it’s resulted in less sex,” you divulged. “Marc’s been telling clients it’s for cancer awareness, despite No Shave November starting, well, in November. Steven teaches a bunch of Gen-Zers who think it’s part of some new TikTok trend.”

Charlotte burst into laughter at your assessment. Before you two could gossip any further, there was a knock on the bathroom door. It was Harry, who once he identified you, called to Jake, “They’re in here!”

In the span of a second, a frantic Jake rushed over to you with his arms full of a very unhappy Nyla.

“Where have you been?” He snapped.

You knew Jake was flustered about his daughter crying, so you sent him a smile, and in a carefully measured tone asked him, “Would you like to try that again?”

“Sorry,” your husband softened at once, “but it’s not her diaper, I took off her wig-hat thing, I even tried taking her around the block in her stroller, but nothing’s worked so—“

“She must be hungry,” you concluded for him and held out your arms for him to pass your still-wailing infant over.

As easy as it was to jump down each other’s throats when Nyla was upset, you had to give your husband grace. Especially since technically, he’d only been a parent for a third of as long as you’d had.

Once Nyla was securely in your grasp you cooed at her, “Oh baby Wednesday, what’s wrong?”

Charlotte joined in your attempts to soothe Nyla and offered you their bedroom to feed her. Unfortunately, time on the boob didn’t make your daughter a happier camper so you and Jake decided to call it a night. As disappointing as it was, leaving early was the right move since Nyla fully conked out on the car ride home.

She mercifully didn’t wake up when you and Jake transferred her into her crib, which left you and your very sexy husband still in costume with nothing to do at 8:45 on Halloween night.

“We could put something on?” you suggested.

“Or,” Jake countered, “we could have a Halloween party of our own.”

He captured your hand and kissed the back of it, making you stutter when you asked, “And what would that entail exactly?”

Jake hummed, trailing his lips up your arm in true Gomez Addams fashion, and when reached the juncture of your shoulder and neck, you mewled. Encouraged by how you were swiftly melting into his arms, your husband bit down, worrying the sensitive skin there with his tongue.

He escalated his delicious assault on your body by stepping behind you so each of Jake’s large, sure hands could cup and squeeze your breasts. The act ripped a whine from your throat, given that your tits had been made incredibly sensitive by nursing. You flinched and turned your head to the side, thereby exposing more of your neck for his teeth and tongue to attack.

“Been thinking about these tetas all night,” he rasped into your ear.

“Yeah?” You urged him on. Both he and Steven were downright obsessed with your lactating bosom. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Wanna stick my cock between ‘em,” Jake divulged. His words made you even weaker in the knees.

“Mmm, Papi,” you keened.

He bit down on your earlobe and corrected you, “Gomez.”

Oh, you were doing that tonight. You turned the Morticia on, twisted in his grasp, clutched Jake’s lapels, then told him, “I want you to ravage me, my love, tear me apart like an animal then put back together as only a lover such as you can.”

You were unsure if it was dramatic enough, but it certainly did the trick, seeing that suddenly your world shifted since Jake threw you over his shoulder to cart you off to the bedroom.

You and your husband were never much for role playing, so this was a surprise. And since Jake looked so much like Gomez, why not give it a try?

Jake snapped you out of your thoughts when he landed a slap on your ass before depositing you onto the bed. You tried to assume a sexy position spread out on the bed, the long black wig you still wore fanning out across the comforter.

While your husband usually went straight for your ass, tits, or mouth, Jake surprised you by yanking on your ankles to pull you further down on the bed. He contrasted his first brusque move with a softer one, dropping his lips to the delicate skin of your ankle. Once again emulating the character he was dressed as, Jake drew a line of kisses up the length of your leg. Every press of his lips against the tender skin of your shin and thigh made you convulse as Jake continued toward his prize.

It was impossible to stifle the yelp you made when Jake ripped the fabric of your costume to further open the slit of the dress so he could get at your pussy. Once he had the necessary space, your husband wasted no time pushing the now soaked crotch of your thong aside and kissing your quivering core. He treated you to little licks up and down the seam of your cunt, before focusing on swirling it around your clit.

“Jaaake,” you keened, too far gone to use the characters you were supposedly role-playing as.

He lapped at your slit voraciously. It was tempting to allow your eyes to flutter closed and surrender to your pleasure, yet the image before you was too intoxicating to ignore. It was thrilling, with the different hairstyle, the eyeliner that made his dark gaze pop, the glimpse of the pinstripe pattern across his broad shoulders…Jake looked just enough like a stranger between your thighs. And that sent an extra swell of excitement through you.

Jake hummed against your folds, the vibrations making you shudder and allowing another high-pitched yip to escape from you. The brush and tickle of his mustache added another layer of novelty and titillation to your already trembling form.

“Don’t stop,” you urged him. Pleasure was now zinging across every corner and crevice of your body. Your mounting orgasm made you toss your head from side to side on the pillow, while you attempted to find purchase for your fingers within Jake’s shellacked strands.

Though Jake often liked to be the boss in the bedroom, he heeded your order, dutifully continuing his rapacious attentions on your core. He could usually feel when the proverbial band of your peak snapped and coursed through you, but this time, Jake could hear it in the plaintive, pleasure-drunk calls of his petname.

When “Papi..Pah…Puh…” became “oh fuck Paaaaaaapi,” he knew he’d done his job, that your climax was lighting up every last nerve ending in that pretty little pussy of yours, and that your ecstasy was entirely his doing.

Jake wanted to give you more time to catch your breath as you came down, he really did, but he’d been hard ever since Nyla’d been deposited into her crib, which meant unfettered access to your tits. The way your chest had heaved while you lost yourself in the bliss of your orgasm hadn’t exactly helped his patience either. Your husband snatched the two panels of fabric that made up your dress and tore the garment clean in half.

“Necesito estas tetas,” he growled, his hands once again sailing straight to your breasts.

You jerked from the surprise contact as Jake swooped down onto your bosom and whimpered. Your breasts were tender to begin with, and your body was still being wracked by little aftershocks from your climax. Thankfully, your husband noticed, and his touch became much gentler in the span of an instant.

“Oh nena,” he murmured, tenderly playing with each teat, reveling in the breastmilk that had begun to dribble from them. “Fuiste tan bueno para Papi, déjame cuidarte. Tu sabes que Papi le encantan el sabor de tu leche.”

You’d barely translated his word in your head before his warm, relentless mouth had found your right nipple and began suckling at it. Feeling the suction of Jake's mouth coaxing out the buildup of milk in your already engorged boobs nearly had you levitating above the sheets. Not only was it incredibly arousing, but the relief that coursed through you with every pull of his lips, especially since Nyla didn't eat much earlier, only made you feel more divine.

It didn't take you long to figure out that your husband’s worship of your chest was two-fold. Sure, Jake was sending you into the stratosphere by suckling at your breasts, but when he switched mounds by leaving open-mouthed kisses across your sternum, it was clear he was also getting you wet so he could wedge his throbbing dick between them.

“Mmmm Papi, you gonna put that huge cock between my boobies?” you intoned to egg him on. “Gonna fuck these big titties?”

Jake replied with a snarl and detached himself from your now thoroughly-abused nipple. “Ven aqui.”

The next thing you knew, you were no longer splayed on the bed, rather on your knees with your criminally handsome husband towering over you. You watched hungrily as he slowly, tantalizingly unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly, but when you reached to shuck off his trousers altogether, Jake caught your hands.

“Ah ah,” he tutted. “Mi traje se queda puesto.”

A dark whirlpool of excitement churned in your stomach at his statement. There was something extra electrifying about being left in your cum-soaked thong while Jake was fully clothed, drawing his turgid length out of his costume’s zip. You spurred him on by squeezing your tits and pushing them together.

“Joder, nena,” he swore at the sight. “Voy a follar esas tetas tan duro.”

“Qué estas esperando por, Papi?” you goaded him.

Jake needed no further encouragement. He stepped toward you and wedged his dick, flushed wine-red and leaking, between your heavy breasts. It was a different position, but you knew that Jake would want a similar treatment to one his alter got on your holiday to Cornwall.

Steven had made an absolute mess of your chest and the sheets at the cottage you’d rented in the countryside, so naturally Jake would want his chance to top him. This time, you were less bashful about your husband fucking your tits, which emboldened you to give him a show. Not only did you dart your tongue out to lap at his cockhead each time Jake thrust it between your boobs, you massaged them around this shaft to stimulate him further.

“Fuhhhhh, nena,” he groaned at the stimulation, the movement of your milk-laden breasts making him piston his hips harder into the valley of your chest. “Jo–oh, joder.”

There wasn’t much talking after that, the feel of your breasts suffocating Jake’s cock rendered him speechless. You concentrated on licking his swollen tip, the salty taste of his precum filling your mouth with every swipe of your tongue.

The two of you made a lewd symphony between the slick slip of his cock between your breasts, the jingle of his zipper against his thigh with each shove of his pelvis, plus the little grunts and moans you traded with each other. You knew Jake’s climax was fast-approaching when his grunts picked up pace.

Within moments, his seed was painting your tongue with hot stripes. Jake’s face was blissfully open and unfurrowed as his peak consumed him. It was a welcome sight to see your husband’s features wearing only pleasure and release. To you, that was sweeter than any candy or treat Halloween could offer. Well, that and the absolutely adorable family photos you managed to sneak in earlier this evening before Nyla took a hard left into fussytown.

Once Jake’s orgasm subsided, you slipped off the wig, relieved to no longer have it on your scalp since your previous activities had worked up quite a sweat. Jake collected you in his arms, and kissed you surprisingly gently for how intently he was fucking your tits just minutes previously.

“¿Quieres una ducha?” he whispered.

You nodded, “Si Papi. Gracias.”

You followed him into your en-suite bathroom. As he put the water on, you remarked, “Big day tomorrow.”

“Mmm?” came Jake’s response as he at last stripped himself of his costume.

“Shaving Day,” you supplied. You, Marc and Steven had been counting down.

“Actually, I was thinking–”

“No no! We all agreed!” you stopped him. “Besides, you had your fun tonight, didn’t you? What a sendoff.”

“That’s exactly why I should keep it baby,” he purred, crowding you with his now naked body. “Don’t think I haven’t seen your leg twitching when I kiss this pretty pussy con mi bigote. Se siente bien, ¿no?”

“Nice try, Lockley,” you countered, scampering past him into the spray, “but a deal’s a deal.”

Jake wanted to argue, but the sight of you - nude and wet in the shower - silenced him for the time being. There would be plenty of time to concoct another scheme/bet/what have you for his mustache’s glorious return. Right now, he simply wanted to be close to, and joined you under the stream of water.

A/N: Leave it to me to intend to write straight up filth but needing to writing idk, a thousand or so words of world-building before our dude gets his cock out. Classic moi, am I right? Anyway, hope everyone enjoyed!! Only two more prompts to gooooo

Translations:

conejita - little bunny

Nena - babe

pero nena, este vestido - but babe, this dress

tetas - tits

Luego - later

Necesito estas tetas - I need these tits

Fuiste tan bueno para papi, déjame cuidarte. Tu sabes que Papi le encantan el sabor de tu leche - You were so good to daddy, let me take care of you. You know that Papi loves the taste of your milk

Ven aqui - come here

Mi traje se queda puesto - my suit stays on

Joder, nena - fuck babe

Voy a follar esas tetas tan duro - I’m going to fuck these tits so hard

Qué estas esperando por, Papi - What are you waiting for?

¿Quieres una ducha? - you want a shower?

Si Papi. Gracias - Yes thanks.

con mi bigote. Se siente bien, ¿no? - with my mustache. It feels good doesn’t it?

Taglist:

@twwcs, @rmoonstoner, @hot-mess-express1, @murdickdocked, @toracainz, @saahmi, @unspokenmoon, @winterbiipp, @avatarofseshat @ilikeoldermenhelp, @losers-club6, @harrys-tittie, @ninebluehearts, @lucianadraven32, @dawnsutopia, @strawberry1042, @nikitawolfxo, @weirdo125 @damnzelsoul @missmarmaladeth

#moon knight #moon knight smut #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fanfiction #jake lockley #jake lockley x female!reader #jake lockely smut #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x you #marc spector #marc spector x reader #steven grant #steven grant x reader #oscar isaac #oscar isaac smut #oscar isaac fanfiction #bit-dodgy's 500 follower celebration #bit dodgy's 500 follower celebration

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palmtreesx3 · 4 months

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As my header states, I'm too old for this. But here I am anyway. If you're here you're gonna watch me embarrassingly lust over every version of Steve Harrington (who am I kidding, just Joe Keery in general) and while I mostly just react to other people's tremendously talented work, I occasionally dabble myself.

So if you are lurking, enjoy and leave some kisses 💋

(18+, don't be cunty, yada yada yada)

🔥 Spicy/Smutty 🚨 Cannon/Cannon Adjacent ❤️ Fluffy/Boyfriend-ism 😩 Angsty

Get Off (Series) 🔥18+ - SexShop!Steve x Reader : SexShop!Robin x OC (7/9)

Summary: Steve and Robin have about had it with Hawkins, so on Robin's 25th birthday, the pair decides that there's nothing holding them there anymore and they start packing their bags. The friends move to Chicago and quickly find an apartment to call their own. As luck would have it, within hours of arriving to the city, Robin stumbles on a no-strings-attached job offer for both of them - what could be better?! Now just to break the news to Steve…. This multi part story will both explore their platonic relationship and their chaotic experience working at the sex shop together as well as their own paths of self discovery as they plant their roots in their new city and finally deal with the invisible baggage they drug along with them when they moved. Act 4 - Out Now :)

Prologue || V-Card || Act 1 || Act 2 || Act 3 || Act 4 || Act 5 || Act 6 || Epilogue

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King of Wishful Thinking (Series) ❤️ Fluffy but eventually 🔥 18+ and marked as such because I'm a hoe - Steve Harrington x Reader (2/?)

Summary: Steve has been in love with you for his entire life. He has always wanted to express his feelings and do nice things for you, but every time he tries to come up with new and creative ways to show you how much he cares, but it seems like fate is always against him. Even though he shallowly convinces himself that you’re just meant to be friends and despite these setbacks, Steve remains determined to keep trying. He still holds onto the hope that someday he'll be able to express his feelings to you and maybe, just maybe have them reciprocated. Paused but not forgotten

1974 || 1978 || 1980 (coming soon)

Joe Keery Photo Drop Support Group A place to gather when he sends us into a tizzy. This support group was started in response to the Behind the Blinds Photo Drops but can and will be revisited anytime this man rocks our world like that again....All are welcome. Judgement Free-zone. Cake ALWAYS served.

Birthday Cake Train 🍰 A communal space to celebrate birthdays and serve up a slice of Cake....you know which kind. Join the thread when it's your turn. There's enough to go around.

Seeing Stars 🔥18+ The crew finally decides it's time to start celebrating the 4th of July again, but Steve Harrington finds he can't stop himself from staring.

A Girl Like You (PT 2 to Seeing Stars) 🔥18+ In the aftermath of the 4th, embarrassment and emotions are flying, tables turn and shit gets figured out. Read Part 1 to see how exactly we got here.

Deeper for You 🔥18+ It's your annual beach trip with the crew from Hawkins, something you've all been doing together your whole adult life after life forced everyone to part ways. You're all close, but this year, an accidental encounter in the outdoor shower makes you get a little closer with one person in particular.

Jealous Friend One Shot 🔥18+ ask Watching your friend, Steve Harrington, go on Kamakazi Mission dates over and over again was getting kind of old. You’re always there to listen, comfort and pick up the pieces but what if this time it’s just too much? What if this time you’ve had enough and something that feels a little bit like jealousy rears its ugly head?

Firefighter!Steve One Shot

Taking Care of Steve (Road Head) Blurb 🔥18+ ask

Vampy Steve Blurb ask

Fool in Love Blurb (King of Wishful Thinking inspo) ❤️

Stevie Takes Care of You When You're Sick Blurb ❤️ ask

Joe Keery as Steve Harrington Micro expressions

Steve Harrington Smells Like head cannons

Cozy Cardigan Steve (Joe Keery Dork Mag inspo) ❤️

Ok maybe I'm being overdramatic, but please also consider reading these fics or series I feel like I'd lay down my life for because they have become a visceral part of me and changed the fabric of my being and I think about them all the time. They are all *chefs kiss* and written by amazingly talented people who also have deep Masterlists that also deliver. So wake the fuck up and read em! Again, most (okay fine, all) are 🔥 18+ ...again, because I'm a hoe

Into Open Flames 🔥😩🚨 on AO3

Midnight City 🔥 by @superblysubpar

We'll Call it Love 🔥😩 by @superblysubpar

If Tomorrow Never Comes 🔥😩🚨 by @sweetsweetjellybean

All I Really Want is You ❤️🔥 by @loveshotzz

Whatta Man (Steve's Night) 🔥 by @loveshotzz

New Years Eve (Steve & Eddie)🔥😩 by @loveshotzz

Beyond 🔥 by @abibliophobiaa

We Tried the World 🔥😩 @upsidedownwithsteve

And I Snuck in Through the Garden Gate ❤️🔥 @upsidedownwithsteve

Don't Call Me Baby 🔥😩 by @katyswrites

Aftermath (Steve & Eddie)🔥😩🚨 by @sweetsweetjellybean

Daisy 🔥 by @thyme-in-a-bubble

PSA: Don't steal my shit. Don't repost my shit. Don't steal other peoples shit. Don't use AI. Don't feed my shit into AI. Don't feed other people's shit into AI. Just come here, read about this sweet piece of a man and live on our fantasy island together in lust and in peace.

#its not much but it's mine #palmtreesX3 Masterlist #my masterlist #steve harrington masterlist #steve harrington fics #steve harrington fic recs #fics in progress #wip #my blurbs

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deandoesthingstome · 1 year

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Night Moves

Chapter 2

Pairing: Walter Marshall x OFC (Alexandra Pierce)

Series Summary: When Walter Marshall is called to investigate a homicide by the railroad tracks, he quickly uncovers an unsettling pattern. Alexandra Pierce just wants someone to find out what happened to her friend. She has some secrets, too. And Walter’s going to uncover them.

Word Count: 2486

Series Warnings: In general, this series will depict assault, murder, stripping, hooking, rough sex, make up sex, fingering, oral (m and F receiving), p in v sex in various positions, self-loathing, failed relationships, smoking, drug use, drug addiction, general violence, and maybe some comfort. +18, Minors DNI

Chapter Warnings: Misogyny, grumpy Walter, general police investigation discussion, social work, mention of failed relationships.

Disclaimers: I do not own Walter Marshall, Night Hunter (Nomis), or any other characters from that movie, but I do own this OFC (Alexandra Pierce) and these words. Do not repost as your own. Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are more than welcome. It’s how I get my nourishment.

Header made by me, with pics found from Pexel.com and the internet. Dividers are not mine, but check out the masterlist for credit.

Playlist: Night Moves Songs 4 -7 Direct Spotify link here.

Masterlist

Well even if I didn’t have plans, I clearly can’t go out on patrol again for a while. Fuck. I went too far the other night. I just couldn’t control myself again. I've been doing so well lately.

But all these harlots, wandering the streets in their slutty little outfits, acting like we owe them something. Acting like they shouldn’t just be home, taking care of someone. Someone like me. It just gets to me.

It took so long to finally find someone who wanted to be mine. Years of hiding, years of swallowing the truth of what I know about who these cunts are, acting like I fit in.

She’ll never know. About me. About where I really come from. About what I really do. But I'm gonna keep doing it. They deserve it. They all need to learn their lessons.

That’s all it was ever supposed to be, no matter how many times I slipped. Just a lesson. A reminder that they aren’t the hot shit that they think they are. A push in the right direction. If I could get even one dumb bitch off the street, it would all be worth it.

But that last trick. She had a real fuckin’ mouth on her. Stupid girl. See what it gets you? Acting like you’re better than me? You aren’t better than me. You know it now, don’t you?

And then that little asshole showed up so all I could do was hide the body and scram. Good thing he didn’t see too much. If she’d been found sooner, I could be in trouble. Still, I wanted to move her somewhere more private. Stick her with her cunty friends.

Bitch.

“So tell me again why no one’s been looking for this guy when we know where he likes to hunt? I get it, the sketches aren’t much to go on, but fuck!” Walter slams the files on Rachel’s desk, leaning with his fists on the dark wood top and staring the profiler directly in the face.

“Lieutenant Marshall, Walter, you… you know that’s not my call,” Rachel sighs with exasperation.

“Yeah, but you can strongly recommend…”

“Walter, this is going to get us nowhere. What do you want me to do now? Because at this moment, there is no search and the longer we argue about why there wasn’t one in the first place, the more opportunity someone has to repeat a crime. So can we cut to the chase? Please?”

Walter jerks his head back with a little shake, as if he can’t believe what he’s just heard.

“Alright then, I want you to review the details in these files and put out a BOLO. And I want you to get the commander to start a task force.”

“And I suppose you also have some ideas about who should be on that force?” Rachel quirks an eyebrow in question.

“Yes, right. I’m taking Jonas and we're going to canvasse the clubs to see if anyone knows someone missing who could be the tracks victim.”

Rachel drags the pile of folders her way, grabs the first file, and flips it open to begin scanning for details. “Sorry, how are these cases related?”

“Read the descriptions of the attacks,” Walter nods his head toward the file in Rachel’s hand. “Almost to a tee, they are exactly the same. Except for the locations. Remote, disused bus stops. Little, or sometimes no lights from street lamps that have been reported out for three months or more. Late night. Victims say they had just missed the second to last bus of the evening, so they can’t walk away because if they miss the next one, they have to hail a cab and can’t afford the fare across town to their apartments. And then…”

“And then, jesus,” Rachel interrupts. “What the fuck? This guy starts taunting them, trying to goad them into a fist fight? In the middle of the night with no one around? No provocation?”

“Right. And our Jane Doe at the tracks was beat up. To a pulp. Like her face doesn’t exist anymore. Not in any recognizable way. We’re gonna have to hope her DNA is in the system, or look for dental records or something, to identify her.”

“So you think this guy is escalating?” Rachels asks as she grabs the second file to confirm Walter’s story.

“You tell me. You’re the profiler”

“Walter, don’t be a dick. I got these files two minutes ago.”

“You haven’t seen these before? Well, why didn’t you say so before I…?”

“Before you what, barged in here and demanded answers to a question I hadn’t heard yet?” Rachel holds Walter’s gaze with a knowing look and waits for him to back down before she picks up the third file.

Walter picks his fists up from the desk and slumps back into the chair across from Rachel, waiting for her to finish the rest of the files. He crosses his arms across his chest and stretches his booted feet as far forward as he can before they are stopped by her desk.

His gaze shifts to the floor as he contemplates the change he’s seen in Rachel over the past year and a half. She’s grown so much more confident than when she first joined the precinct. Several more quick wins had solidified her stature with the department and while he always maintained a professional demeanor at the office, away he could do nothing but watch her slip through his fingers the way Angie had. He admired the strength of these women in his life, but something was always just a little off and he could never put his finger on it. He wanted to trust them, but how could he when he didn’t even trust himself?

Walter returns his gaze to Rachel when he hears the thud of the final file back to the pile.

“Yeah, okay. But you know, Commander’s gonna want it small. This guy is wearing a ski mask, which ought to stick out here in the spring, But this isn’t tourists or ladies who lunch or university kids. This is..”

“Hookers. Yeah. I know. Doesn’t mean they don’t deserve a fairer shot. Doesn’t mean they should have to walk around in fear for their safety just because this is the way they have to make a living. We good here?” Walter stands and waits for Rachel to nod before nodding back and rounding the chair to leave her office.

“And Walter? For the record, and for what it's worth, I agree.”

Walter half-turns back to accept her olive branch with a heavy sigh, nods once again toward Rachel, and leaves for real this time.

He stops by Mick’s desk and tells him they’ll meet up at 9 at the first club on the list. Early enough the smaller opening crowds should make it easier to take some of the dancers’ time without too much fuss from management.

For now, he has a dinner date with Faye.

“Alex!” Hannah exclaimed. “Thank goodness you’re here. We have a stack of new boxes of pamphlets that need sorting and then the meeting starts in 20. Do you have time to sort out the other volunteers and maybe get someone to run for donuts and coffee?”

Alexandra nodded with a big smile, leaning in to give Hannah a hug before turning to survey the small group of undergrads who showed up at her request. They were all in the one undergraduate level course she agreed to teach during spring semester. In return, her doctorate advisor agreed to her thesis subject and to keep quiet about the way she planned to gather her research. At least until the paper was written and her thesis defense was heard, at which time no one would be in the dark about her time at the club.

She sent one of her crew off to the donut shop and explained to the rest how to sort and stack the handouts, where to replenish the displays, and where to store the rest of the stock. When the meeting began, she waited for Hannah to introduce her once again, knowing there are always new women who come for support or information. She smiled widely as she thanked Hannah and stood to take the podium. She was professional as she provided information about STD’s, the best ways to prevent them, and where to find the free clinics that can help with diagnoses and medication.

But her eyes scanned the crowd. It was a larger turnout than normal, which would give her an opportunity to meet some new women and hopefully enlist them for supporting interviews. She glanced back and forth several times, hoping she was just tired and missing a face. Not that she’d ever mistake Trixie’s face.

The fact of the matter was, Trixie wasn’t here. Clinic visits were a time to check in with Trixie in a place where she felt safer and was more open to suggestions on where to turn for help, financial or otherwise. It wasn’t like her to not show at a meeting. And it had been a few days since she’d shown up at the club. Which wasn’t necessarily a concern.

Except Alex knew Trixie was light on funds and would never miss shifts at the club, especially when doing so meant you might not pick up those shifts again. Alex had not forgotten the last conversation they’d had when she stopped by the police station the morning before to report her missing. She also couldn’t forget the way the officer taking her statement had shifted into judgment as soon as the story of who Trixie was and what she was likely doing the last time Alex had seen her came out. They’d given Alex the time of day because she showed up in civilian clothes and presented as a professional with university credentials. But a hooker not showing up for her stripping shift? Who cared?

Alex made up her mind before even finishing her community service spiel - she’d head to the station again and demand they follow up on her missing person report as soon as her clinic shift was over.

Walter tosses back the last of the coffee in his thermos before turning off the engine and heading into the precinct. He spent five hours last night hitting up clubs and speaking with women on the street, three of which were after he sent Mick home for some rest. He stared at the case files again for another two hours when he got home. His late arrival is going to be noticed, but detectives rarely keep regular hours when a case is new.

He and Mick spend the day calling the assault victims, checking to see if they can remember anything else about their attacker that didn’t make it into the file. The results are a nice mixed bag of voicemail boxes and apologies. Nothing new to go on.

He grabs another mug of coffee from the kitchen and walks down to the file room to check if any more possible case matches have shown up in the database. The clerk tells him there are two.

“They’re just retrieving them now. I’m headed on break as soon as they get here. I can drop ‘em on your desk on the way out so you don’t need to wait.”

“That’d be great,” Walter thanks him and heads over to Rachel’s office to confirm the rest of the details about the task force the captain agreed to.

They discuss a delay in confirming the ID of their Jane Doe, since the partials didn’t come out too clean and the coroner’s report mentioned the finger pads had been shaved off. Walter missed that on his cursory glance at the head when he visited the crime scene and he kicks himself mentally for the slip up.

They’ll have to rely on the results of the blood and DNA work to match her if she’s in the system. That’ll be a few more days at least because no one is rushing this case officially. No rich daddy breathing down the commissioners neck or distraught mother pleading her case on national television.

No, no one cares about who this woman was. But Walter does. He and Rachel flag a few more detectives to help with canvassing and Rachel says she’ll fill them in.

“You look tired already, Walter.”

“It’s nothing new,” he scoffs.

“True, but this case is new. Don’t burn yourself out already.”

His eyes search hers, looking for something deeper to match the intimate feeling he gets from her knowing comment, but all he sees is the friendship she offered him when it was over. He thinks this is good, since he’s mostly over it, too.

He’s ready to pack it in for the day. Mick’s already left to get some sleep before heading out again tonight. Walter holds the door open for a nice looking woman on his way out and she gives him a cautious smile in thanks.

He stops on the sidewalk to make a quick call to Faye and see if they’re still on for pizza this weekend. She’s chatting his ear off about some party or another she’s been invited to and he can’t make heads or tails if she does or doesn’t want to go so it’s another ten minutes before he can get her off the phone with a promise to have breakfast with him on Sunday instead.

He’s all the way in the truck before he remembers the files he left on his desk. He wanted to bring them home and compare them with the rest. So he climbs back down and does a light jog across the parking lot to retrieve it.

There’s a commotion in the detective’s bull pen and he notices the woman again. He can see she’s not happy. He hears Rachel offer the woman a chair and ask her to sit and cool down.

“You think I’m out of control?” the woman shouts. “Baby, you watch me freak out!” She shoves the chair out of her way and storms out of the building, breezing past Walter in the process.

“Walter!” Rachel calls to him as soon as she notices he’s stepped back into the building. “Stop her!”

But Walter’s running on about four hours of sleep that even the strongest coffee all day long isn’t helping, so his reflexes are slow. By the time he turns around and wrenches the door open, the only thing he sees is a shitty Nissan Sentra peeling out of the lot. Bold moves right in front of the station, but he reckons it’s technically going the speed limit by the time the car breaks at the corner and then turns out of sight. Nobody else is shuffling around, so he turns to go back inside.

“What the fuck was that?”

Chapter 3

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